Ladder to the Sun
by Rosybud
Summary: How can you die when you've never really lived? That's the problem Bella Swan faces when she's told she only has a year to live. Can she make up for a lonely, unhappy life in the short time she has left... and maybe find love too? All-human, EXB
1. Chapter 1: From the Very Start

**This is a story that combines my two favorite books of all time: Stephenie Meyer's **_**Twilight**_**, and L.M Montgomery's **_**The Blue Castle. **_**For those who haven't read it, **_**The Blue Castle **_**is this achingly good novel set in the early 1900's about a woman who has been repressed, ignored and taken for granted her whole life. After she learns she only has a year to live, she decides to really **_**live **_**it.**

**After taking such a long break from ff net, I thought I'd better start with a story I've been itching to write for a while ;-)**

**Alternate Universe, All-Human. Right now the M rating is just for language. We'll see where future chapters take this.**

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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**Prologue**

_~August ~_

Today has been the most… _surreal _day of my life. I never thought this would happen. Not in a million years. Not like this. Not to me.

I'll warn you right now that you'll think I've gone crazy—you'll think I've lost it, and maybe I have. Sane people don't act like me, they don't do the things I do. I used to be predictable, steady, dependable— I used to be completely boring. Not anymore I guess. But even if I'm crazy now I don't care. I'm too happy to care.

I should probably start at the beginning right? That's the way every story starts, with a beginning and a middle and an end… Only I don't quite know where the beginning is, and I'm still in the middle, and I already know the ending. Yeah, this is a crazy mixed up story here, so beware.

Should I start with _my_ beginning? You'd be bored crazy if I did. The entire time I was living it I was bored_. _I was breathing and sleeping and eating but I wasn't alive. I was just going through the motions, talking when someone wanted an answer, smiling when it was expected of me, existing when really I was dead inside. Asleep. Too afraid to wake up.

And I didn't start to come alive until the day I saw him.

It was a boring Monday afternoon, just like every other Monday. There was rain in his hair, I remember that. And dark circles under his eyes like he hadn't had a good night's sleep in weeks. His shoulders were hunched and he was pale and disheveled and wet… and he was beautiful. I didn't know his name or where he was from but I didn't care. He was the most beautiful thing that I had ever seen.

And when he looked at me I blushed because that's what I do. And instead of introducing myself or even smiling at him, I ran. Because I always run. I didn't know how to be brave or funny or good enough. I always had tomorrow to learn to be those things, and when tomorrow stretched into next week and next week into next month and next month stretched into next year, I was still too scared.

Shy, timid, eternally overshadowed. My name is Isabella Swan and that's who I used to be.

I said before that I already know the ending to this story and that's true. I know the how's and the why's and I even know a ballpark when. Sure, that's not the way it's supposed to be. No one is supposed to know the ending before the story starts.

Funnily enough, I was always too impatient to stick to that rule; I _always _skipped to the end of a book before I bothered reading it. Why should I waste my time on a story with an unhappy ending? There was enough of that in real life. Ironic isn't it, that my own story must, inevitably end in tragedy?

Because this is a story that ends with my death.

My name is Isabella Swan and three months ago, I was told I only had a year to live.

If you only had a year to live what would you do? Would you go on living as if nothing had changed, try to pretend away the knowledge that the breaths you take are numbered, that every hour brings you closer to an unavoidable ending? Or would you decide to make the most of your year? Be glad for every second you survive through, regret nothing?

If you only had a year to live, what would you change? Would you quit your job and pursue the dream you'd given up at eighteen? Would you do that thing—that _one_ thing that always scared you? Would you find the courage to tell someone you loved them? If you only had a year to live who would you hug close… who would you push away? Could you justify wasting even a single second?

Three months ago, I didn't know the answer to any of these questions.

It's hard knowing the ending to your own story before it's even begun. But if I hadn't known, I never would have had the courage to jump up and grab life, to squeeze out every drop. I never would have had _this_ moment, or _this _kiss. I never would have had the most surreal day of my life.

Three months ago, I was terrified of living. I didn't know how to do anything but hide and blush and let all the best things get away from me. So I think that if you're going to understand the _real _Bella Swan, the one I don't let anyone see, then that's a very good place to start.

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**Chapter One: From the Very Start**

_Limb by limb and tooth by tooth  
Tearing up inside of me  
Every day every hour  
I wish that I was bullet proof_

Wax me  
Mould me  
Heat the pins and stab them in  
You have turned me into this  
Just wish that it was bullet proof

-Bulletproof… I wish I was, Radiohead

_~May~_

Libraries attract weirdoes.

Well, maybe that's a little harsh. Maybe it would be nicer to say that libraries attract the kind of people who are more comfortable around books than other people. I can say this with absolute truth because I am one of those people.

In high school I spent more school lunches hidden in the stacks reading than I did in the cafeteria. In college I did my work study at the campus library, sitting at the circulation desk and shelving books. When I came back to my hometown of Forks Washington after school I even got a job working at the local library.

My entire life I was definitely the kind of person who likes books better than people. Books are predictable, no matter how many times you read them they never change. And the books I read at least, all have happy endings where the girl gets the boy and the bad guys get what they deserve.

Real life isn't like that. Real life is messy and depressing and most of the time it just plain sucks.

Like right now for instance. I was standing on top of a very rickety old metal ladder, holding onto the side of it with one hand and clutching an oversize art book that had to weigh at least ten pounds with the other.

"I am going to die," I muttered furiously to myself, as I tried to get better footing. Every small movement I made caused the ladder to tilt dangerously to one side. I was sure that one of these days I was going to drop a book… or lose my balance (_very _likely) and crack my skull open on the darn decorative pot in the corner that did nothing but collect dust.

Dust that it was _my _job to clean every week.

Whoever had designed the Forks Public Library and had chosen to put the oversize books on the _top _shelf of the very tall bookshelves that lined the back wall was an idiot I decided. It was probably the same person who had cheaped out and bought this shitty ladder, and had never bothered to fix it afterwards when one of the wheels on the bottom had broken off.

But to be fair, maybe they hadn't ever imagined that the person doing the shelving would be Bella Swan, a girl who could manage to trip and fall while walking over a completely flat, clear surface.

Which meant that it was all my boss's fault for making me do this particular job in the first place. She knew how coordinately challenged I was, but since I was the "youngest" employee, the job had automatically been assigned to me. I looked back over my shoulder to the circulation desk, where Susan Mallory sat in her fancy rolling swivel chair, playing solitaire on the computer. She smirked up at me. "Almost done Isabella?"

I turned away so she wouldn't see me roll my eyes. "Sure," I answered. _If this deathtrap doesn't kill me first. _

I bit the inside of my cheek so I wouldn't say the words aloud, something I had a lot of practice with. I sighed and carefully descended the ladder to get my next and last oversized book from the cart.

The library was dead quiet and deserted, which was unsurprising since it was only 10:45AM on a Tuesday. I liked the place better the less people were in it.

Growing up, the building had been a tiny, musty-smelling space with one of those stereotypical librarians who'd always made shushing noises if she thought you were being even one decibel too loud. The old Sea Bank building had been renovated when I was a teenager, and as a result it was a much brighter nicer space, and there were a lot more books than I remembered as a kid. But if you went into certain parts of it, there was still a faint musty tinge to the air.

I liked that smell; it was comforting and homey and it reminded me of all the books I'd escaped into since I had discovered the places they could take me; that all you had to do was open one up and you could escape 'the real world.' There had been so many times in my life when I'd wished that books didn't have to end, that I could go on and on and _on _living inside them. The only consolation was that for every ending there were always hundreds more beginnings, hundreds more worlds to enter. And libraries were the best place to find them.

After I finished with the oversized books, I lugged the heavy book truck towards the front of the room, to where the YA books were shelved. The metal cart made a god-awful racket against the textured ceramic floor tiles, which were made to look like slate; I flinched at the sound and moved faster. Susan looked up at me as I walked past, making me blush even though there was nothing I could do about the sound.

I felt better when I turned the corner into the YA section, since Susan couldn't see me from her spot at the circ. desk. Privacy was something be savored, working with that woman.

Shelving isn't very interesting. All books have a specific spot, it's just a matter of finding it. And if your eyes start to blur after squinting down at tiny numbers and letters after awhile, and if you're tired of dragging a heavy metal cart and lugging books around then you should find another job because there's _always_ more shelving to do in a library. Even ones in tiny towns like Forks.

I sighed after putting away an L.M Montgomery book, which was located on the very bottom shelf, and stood, stretching out my back. Once again, I relished the seclusion, and allowed myself to take a little break and look out the large window that overlooked Main Street.

As usual it was raining outside, and the light that fought its way in through the dirty windows was a dismal, murky grey. I scowled at it, uselessly wishing for sun that so rarely broke through the perpetual cloudy skies of the Olympic Peninsula.

_What the hell am I still doing here_? I wondered as I often did. I had grown up in Forks, except for the two brief years when my mother Renee had taken me to live in Arizona. If anyone should love the rain and the wet and the cold, it should've been me. But I didn't. It was _too _cold and _too _dark and _too_… too depressing. You had to work so much harder to be happy in the rainiest place in the continental U.S.

Usually I was very good at pushing away gloomy thoughts, but it was starting to get harder, maybe because it was springtime and the rain had been endless, even more so than usual. There _should've_ been sun by now. I laid my head against the cool window, watching the drizzle of water droplets as they slid down the glass. _Water, water everywhere…_

The street was empty, except for a dark figure quickly exiting the hardware store across the street—

Immediately I straightened, straining so I could see the figure better. It was a man; his wide shoulders were bent, his head bowed against the rain. His thin grey t-shirt was quickly soaking through, and his hair was darkening from reddish bronze to black as he ran towards a shiny silver Volvo.

I knew that car by heart.

For not the first time in my life I wished I were close enough to see the raindrops slip down the curve of his cheek…

Edward Masen.

I sighed a little wistfully. I could count on one hand the number of times that I had seen him in the past six months, but it was always a memorable experience—for me_ and _for the rest of Forks.

It wasn't that surprising that he had taken us all by storm when he'd first arrived. Mysterious, intensely private. Beautiful. Everyone wanted to know more. The only problem was that he hadn't let anyone in. He didn't tell anyone why he had come or how long he planned to stay, just did his own thing. He hadn't fit in with anyone's expectations: he wasn't a hunter or a hiker, like most of the visitors here, and as far as everyone knew he didn't have a job. Six months ago he'd bought an old hunting shack on the lake, but what he did there was anyone's guess.

I watched for a few more moments as he ran to his car and sped off, going at least ten miles over the speed limit. Seriously, that man and speed limits did _not _get along. I pushed away the guilt I felt for practically stalking him. It wasn't as if anyone would blame me—they were all too busy doing it themselves. He was too beautiful really, with his pale skin and the sharp angles of his face and jaw.

With a little sigh, I turned back to the books I was shelving, glad I only had a few more to put back before my shift at the library ended and I could go home for the night. I snuck a quick look at Susan to make sure she hadn't noticed the quiet, and pulled out my cell phone. One missed call.

"Hey Bells, it's Charlie—" I rolled my eyes as I listened to the message, who else would it be? "I think we used up the last of the milk this morning. Do you mind running by the store on your way home? I'll uh- I'll see you later." Well that was fine, I could pick up some things for dinner. Maybe chili? We hadn't had that in awhile.

I finished shelving and lugged the now empty truck back to the desk. Susan had stopped playing internet games and was checking in a huge pile of books. She smiled at me as I put the cart back in its place.

"All done?"

I nodded and joined her behind the desk just as the front door opened and Mrs. Stanley blew in with a breeze, her cheeks red with excitement. I resisted the urge to groan; God only knew what kind of new "gossip" she had for us today.

Before I'd started working at the Forks Public library, I'd thought people were exaggerating when they said that gossip runs rampant in small towns. I quickly learned how wrong I was, especially since libraries are the worst offenders.

Mrs. Stanley was the worst gossip in town, and she had that familiar _look _in her eyes. "Hello Susan—Isabella," she said a little breathlessly, hardly giving us time to respond before launching into her speech.

"You'll never guess who was just over at the hardware store!" I repressed a smirk, knowing exactly who she was talking about, but in spite of myself I leaned forward a little to hear the latest dirt. Maybe this time she'd have something new.

"It was _Edward Masen. _I was in there saying hi to Beth and I'll tell you—you could have knocked me over with a feather! I haven't seen him in a month; I thought he'd moved away. Finally," she added, trying to sound like that was the best idea she'd ever heard, but her voice wasn't quite bitter enough to pull it off. Truth was, she liked having Edward around.

He was someone to talk about in a town where nothing else happened.

After a few minutes I gave up listening and started getting my stuff together so I could go home. Mrs. Stanley had nothing new to say, except that he'd bought a screw-driver and box of screws. Instead, she and Susan were recycling all the old stuff.

Edward did drugs.

Edward did drugs _and_ was a dealer. That's how he got all his money; he was cooking crystal meth in his basement and growing pot in his bedroom.

Edward went around drunk all the time. Don't you remember the time Mrs. Stanley's daughter Lauren had been talking to him one day (I thought she'd probably been trying to ask him out) and he'd just started laughing at her—right while Lauren was talking!—and then he'd just walked away! Because alcoholics do that kind of thing don't you know.

Edward was hiding up here because he was running away from something—_what?_— he brought a different girl to his house every weekend then dumped them—he had a police record—he was having an affair with that Brandon girl in Port Angeles, even though she was engaged…

I'd heard it all before.

And I was pretty sure most of it was made up. I didn't even really care. He was just a guy I liked to look at every now and then. What he did in his personal life was none of my business.

I said goodbye to Susan and Mrs. Stanley and headed out into the rain. It had slowed to a sluggish drizzle but I ran to my '53 Chevy truck with the umbrella open anyway. I hated getting wet. After a quick stop at the Thriftway, I pulled into the driveway of my house, grateful to be home.

Well, to the home I shared with my Dad Charlie anyway.

Yep, that's right. I'm twenty-six years old and I still live with my father. It doesn't get much more embarrassing than that. Well… until you add in the fact that I am twenty-six years old and I've never had a boyfriend.

_Wait!_ It gets worse. I'm also twenty-six years old and I've never been kissed.

Naturally, I didn't like to spend much time dwelling on those depressing realities however, hence the insane amount of time I spent reading, and cooking, and listening to music.

I grabbed the bag of groceries and ran into the house. Normally, living with Charlie wasn't such a bad thing: he gave me my space, didn't pry, and generally wasn't too much of a slob. I didn't pay rent, just cooked him dinner, did the dishes and the laundry. It could've been worse… I guess.

I got the things together for my chili and put it all in the pot to simmer, and then absently started straightening the piles of newspapers that Charlie had strewn everywhere that morning. It was my very favorite time of day, when I was alone in the house, and everything was quiet. I didn't have to pretend to be anyone else.

The problem was it never lasted as long as I wanted it to. A quick glance at the clock showed that Charlie would be home any second, and while he wasn't a big talker, he'd still be there watching ESPN with the volume turned up too loud. I sighed, and went upstairs thinking I'd change out of my 'work clothes' and into something more comfortable.

Halfway up the stairs, the pain hit.

_Oh damn it_! I yelled at myself inwardly. _Not today—please not today_. Familiar sharp pricks lanced across my chest, centering around my heart. Quickly, I finished walking up the stairs and practically ran to my room, exhaling slowly and thankfully when the door closed behind me, glad that Charlie hadn't been around to see me like this. With one arm wrapped protectively across my chest I sat down on the floor, leaning against the edge of my bed. I breathed deeply and calmly, bracing myself against the pain I knew would only get worse before it was over.

I could hear Charlie moving downstairs, probably devouring the chili that I was now too sick to eat. My fingers were shaking as I reached up to the nightstand to grab my iPod. I managed to put the ear buds in and start my favorite Foster song before another razor-sharp spasm of pain shot through my heart, spreading across my left shoulder.

Almost like a heart attack. But I was too young and too healthy for that… I had always believed that anyway.

It had all begun innocently enough—just a little chest pain every now and then. I'd thought it was heartburn and took some Tums, sure the pain would be gone in the morning. It was. But though _that _particular pain had faded, a new pain returned just a few days later, and then again a few days after that.

I did everything I could think of; I avoided spicy foods, drank lots of water, started eating more salad, popped Tums religiously… but nothing helped. The pain didn't go away, and the 'attacks,' as I'd taken to calling them had steadily worsened until I had begun to wonder if something was seriously wrong with me.

…

Two hours later the last ripples of pain finally started to recede. I sucked in a deep, grateful breath. Every inch of my body shivered as the aftershocks faded. Recently, these attacks left me curled up in a fetal position on the floor, breathless, clammy-cold, with every muscle in my body tense and aching, and this was the worst one yet. Tentatively, I uncurled and started stretching, trying to loosen muscles that hadn't relaxed in over an hour.

I couldn't do this anymore. I'd put up with the pain for the last six months, but this was too much—went too far beyond what I was capable of handling. I pushed myself onto my hands and knees and crawled over to my messenger bag, fingers trembling as I dug through its contents, looking for my cell phone.

It was time to make a long overdue doctor's appointment.

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**I'd love to hear what you think of this!**


	2. Chapter 2: It Came Apart

**Disclaimer: Nothing's mine :-)**

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Chapter Two: It Came Apart

_~May~_

Two weeks later, I was sitting in the office of Dr. Thompson, a cardiologist at the Olympic Medical Center in Port Angeles.

I had spent the last two weeks being poked and prodded, I'd had blood samples taken, described my symptoms more times than I could remember, and been subjected to all kinds of mysterious "tests" that seemed to raise more questions than they answered. I had watched Dr. Thompson's usually cheerful, confident expression turn confused, then frustrated, then anxious, and then finally downright worried.

Which made me worried.

This was supposed to be easy. The doctor was supposed to say "oh sure, I know exactly what's wrong with you," and hand me some pills that would magically make all the pain go away. So far, it hadn't been working out that way.

I was here today to get the results of the echocardiogram he had ordered when nothing else seemed to explain what was wrong with me. I was hopeful that today there would finally be some answers.

Dr. Thompson was sitting behind his desk, his hands folded tightly in front of him. When I sat down, he sighed and ran a hand through his balding hair as he leafed through the pile of paperwork in front of him. He was being very careful not to look me in the eyes.

I hated the seriousness of his expression. I was perfectly healthy—apart from the chest pain anyway. I hadn't suffered from anything more than a cold since I was fifteen years old. There was nothing wrong with me except my inability to walk without tripping over invisible objects. I was _fine. _

Still... I wished Dr. Thompson would look at me.

I shifted slightly, nervously gripping the faux wooden arms of my chair as I waited for him to speak. "So?" I pressed in a fake cheerful voice that didn't belong to me. "Do you know what's wrong with me yet?"

At last, he looked up at me; I tried to ignore what I saw on his face. So it was bad news; I could handle that… I was pretty sure.

"Isabella," he began softly, "I wish I had better news for you, I really do…"

_Just spit it out_, I wanted to say, but I made myself stay silent.

"Now it's not my habit to sugarcoat anything, so I'm just going to tell it to you straight." I nodded. I wasn't in the mood for any bullshit today either. "The echocardiogram showed that there is a tumor—most likely cancerous— growing inside the sac that surrounds your heart, more specifically called the pericardium. It's causing your heart to constrict, which is obstructing the blood flow, and stopping your heart from filling properly. This is the cause of that chest pain you've been experiencing lately, and also the low blood pressure and irregular heartbeat."

I was only half-listening, unable to concentrate on anything other than that one word. Tumor.

Cancer?

I stared at him, stunned.

Cancer.

He stood up and pinned something to the lightboard beside his desk, throwing himself wholeheartedly into a bunch of technical jargon that I didn't understand, repeating words like "malignant" and "primary tumor" and "rare." I watched as his hands darted over the images, not really seeing it anymore.

"But I'm only twenty-six," I cut in. "I'm healthy—" I stared up at him stupidly. "It's just a little chest pain."

He looked at me sympathetically. "One of the worst things about this disease Isabella, is that the symptoms are so common and seemingly minor, that it's difficult to diagnose. It can happen to anyone at any age however. Still, you should understand that this is incredibly rare. Fewer than 1 in 2,000 people develop a primary tumor in their heart—even fewer are malignant."

"And you're sure it's malignant?"

His voice took on that official "Doctor" tone. He leaned forward. "We rarely perform biopsies on tumors in the left side of the heart, which is where I suspect yours is, it's simply too difficult. But based on what I saw in your echocardiogram, I'm almost positive."

"So what do I do? What is the treatment? Can you remove the tumor?"

Dr. Thompson stiffened again, going pale behind his gray beard. "Unfortunately, primary tumors cannot be surgically removed."

"So…?"

"So we focus on easing your pain and making sure that the tumor doesn't spread." I looked up at Dr. Thompson's face and saw how miserable he looked… I realized there was something he wasn't telling me. I took a deep breath, and tried to concentrate…

He wasn't saying anything about a cure.

"You're telling me that I'm going to die, aren't you?" I whispered.

He nodded. "I'm so sorry Isabella."

I ignored him. "How?"

"Heart failure. At some point, your heart isn't going to be able to take the strain, and it will simply give out."

I absorbed that. "When?"

"In your case, given the rate and the extent to which the tumor's progressed, I'd say you have perhaps… a year before that happens."

"A year?" I repeated faintly.

He nodded. "Or possibly less," he amended, his voice squeaking.

_Or less?_

"Now, it's not hopeless," he tried to reassure me. "The research they're doing these days is amazing, especially with chemotherapy." I flinched. "I can refer you to several excellent specialists in Seattle that might be able to stretch that time limit to as much as eighteen months."

I almost snorted. He was talking about another six months—months I'd probably spend in a hospital bed, too sick to move.

I don't remember what I said after that, only that I sat in that small bleak office for two hours while Dr. Thompson talked to me about therapy, counseling, drugs and hospitals, the specialists I should visit, the possible treatments and medications I'd need. My Options, he'd called them. I was sick of his voice by the end.

"Isabella, talk to your family, don't make any decisions yet. I'm going to write you a prescription for an anti-inflammatory medication that should help the pain in your chest," he paused. "Remember, a little research and faith and… you never know…"

I knew: a whole extra six months. I nodded, not even seeing him anymore.

He handed me a hastily scribbled prescription, and a note with the name of a couple specialists on it, and put his arm around me in what he must have thought was a comforting way. I cringed a little, pulling away as soon as I could. "Call me if there's anything you need Isabella."

Vaguely I felt a little bad for him; it wasn't everyday you told a patient she had an incurable disease after all; he'd done his best. I managed a weak smile and half ran for the door. I needed _out_! I was being suffocated by the bright fluorescent lights and that awful sterile _hospital_ smell.

A nurse smiled at me and told me to have a nice day when I walked past the nurse's station. Didn't she know? Wasn't it obvious to everyone? _I am going to die in twelve months. _I felt like there was neon sign on my forehead.

The parking lot was practically empty. I walked in a trance to the red Chevy truck that had been a birthday present from my father, and after fumbling for a few minutes with the keys, climbed into the stuffy cab. I laid my forehead down on the steering wheel and took a deep breath.

I felt like maybe I should cry. That was the normal reaction, wasn't it? The _sane_ one? But my eyes were dry and I felt strangely… numb. Empty. Like my mind couldn't process any more information; it was simply too much.

It was like a bad dream. I kept waiting to wake up, but every time I pinched my arm there was nothing but a sharp pain and small red mark. I'd probably have bruises tomorrow, and in the meantime, I was still stuck in a situation that did not feel real.

I jammed the keys into the ignition and my truck roared to life. I drove automatically, hardly seeing the road in front of me.

Even though I was driving towards it, home was absolutely the last place I wanted to go. So when I came to the road that led to La Push, a small Indian Reservation on the coast, I impulsively turned onto it. The beaches were beautiful there— and calming, which was exactly what I needed right now.

For a minute, I debated going to Second Beach, which was my favorite beach of all, secluded and serene. But the steep hike back up would probably kill me, if the inevitable fall in the dark didn't; it was too close to sunset to risk it. So instead, I drove on, feeling my chest constrict a little when the curve in the road revealed a shining expanse of ocean dotted with huge sea stacks.

I parked the truck and ran to the water; small blue-gray pebbles, each worn perfectly smooth by the water, shifted beneath my feet. I walked past the piles of driftwood to the enormous spruce tree that had washed ashore in a past storm. It's barkless surface had been bleached pale by the sun and the water, and was scrawled all over with graffiti, left by the locals and some tourists. The tree was massive—taller than me by several feet, and so long that when I stood in front of it I couldn't see the ocean anymore.

I scrambled up, careful to stay on my hands and knees so I wouldn't fall. Falling wouldn't be the worst thing to happen however; I imagined curling up on the ground, somewhere away from the wind, just looking up at the sky, watching the sun go down… maybe I would see some stars. I couldn't remember the last time that I had seen stars. I wanted to stay out all night, and watch the sky slowly brighten. Watch the sun come up.

There was no way that was ever going to happen though. Not when I was the Police Chief's daughter. Charlie would send out a search party if I didn't come home on time.

So I leaned against the roots of the huge tree and sat there for a long time, breathing the salty air in deeply. The sun was out, gently nudging through the soft white clouds, creating the most beautiful sunset that I'd seen in a long, long while. There was something so beautiful about this place.

I felt my cell phone vibrating in my pocket. I pulled it out, knowing who it was without even needing to check the number. _Here comes the search party_, I thought to myself.

"Hey Charlie," I said quietly.

"Hi Bells," he paused uncomfortably; my father hated talking over the phone. "It's dinnertime, I was just wondering where you are."

Of course, Charlie hadn't gotten his dinner yet. Because I hadn't been there to cook it for him.

"Oh sorry," I said, even though I wasn't. "I got a little side-tracked. I'm in La Push right now."

"Ah," Charlie said, understanding. He knew how distracted I was by the beach.

"I'll leave in ten minutes," I promised. "I'll see you at home in a bit then."

"Bye Bella," he hung up.

I wondered if I should have prepared him a bit for what was coming; '_hey Charlie_, I should have said, _there's something we need to talk about when I get home_.'

But I couldn't imagine actually saying the words.

I put a hand over my heart, feeling it thump reassuringly. My stupid weak heart. Why did it have feel so _there, _so _strong_? Even the pain that had plagued me for the last six months had suddenly disappeared, making the whole thing seem even more unbelievable.

It couldn't be real. I couldn't be dying.

I was 26 years old.

I still lived with my father.

I had only one real friend.

I hadn't written that novel I'd always wanted to, or finished reading all the books on my _to-read_ list.

I'd never gotten the guts to say a single word to Edward Masen—to even smile at him.

I hadn't been to Europe, or seen the moors I'd dreamed of visiting ever since I'd read _Wuthering Heights_ when I was thirteen. I hadn't seen the tower of London, or the Louvre, or the old medieval churches with their flying buttresses and stained glass.

For fuck's sake I'd never even been kissed!

I couldn't be dying… how can you die when you've never even _lived_?

I tried to imagine going home and telling my father what had happened to me. Tried to picture the look on his face, tried to imagine what he would say to me… what he would do without me? Since he and my mother Renee had gotten divorced, I was all Charlie had.

And my mother? I tried to picture her reaction too, but I couldn't. Flighty, irresponsible Renee. Even my decision to live with my Dad hadn't put enough distance between us, or changed how much she liked meddling in my life. Still, she had everything she wanted now. The younger husband, the perfect stepdaughter, the big house, the freedom. She didn't need me

Could I call my best friend Angela—busy living out her dream as a reporter in New York with her boyfriend Ben—and tell her? Write it all down in an email? What about the people at work? Susan Mallory would have a field day spreading the story around about 'poor Bella Swan,' even if I asked her not to.

Could I really face that? Could I deal with being the center of attention? But worse than that, could I deal with losing control? I knew the first thing my mother would do was drag me off to Seattle and let those doctor's do whatever they wanted; she wouldn't let me say no.

But to stay in control, I would have to keep this secret. Could I really do that… especially from her? I pushed away the small bit of guilt I felt for being so deceptive.

Renee would be fine. They would all be fine. Even my emotionally fragile father would be okay. Maybe my death would be the push he needed to get his life back on track. After all, wasn't I just my father's crutch? I took care of him so he wouldn't have to face reality himself. Maybe he'd be better off without me.

As I turned the key in the ignition, I decided I wouldn't tell them. Nobody had known about my doctor's appointment. My mother definitely wouldn't have approved of the visits anyway since Dr. Thompson wasn't my regular doctor—and because I had kept the visit secret from her in the first place. She hated it when I got "sneaky."

My heart sped a little at the thought of what I was about to do.

I wasn't going to tell them—wasn't going to tell _anyone. _And I wouldn't go to the stupid specialist Dr. Thompson had recommended either. Not for a measly five extra months trapped in a hospital bed being poked and prodded and drained and stuck with needles all the time… Not when it wasn't going to save me from anything

No, I'd have my year without everyone's fake tears, and condolences. Without their sidelong looks and their pity.

…

Charlie was sitting in his chair in front of the TV when I opened the door to the house we'd shared almost my whole life. Nothing had changed in that time: there was the same shabby, peeling paint, same rotting porch, the same badly overgrown evergreen bushes in front. The house had been immaculate when my mother had lived here, but after she'd left, my father had simply stopped caring. If I hadn't been there to cook for him, he probably would have starved to death.

Silently, mechanically, I started getting the ingredients together for Charlie's dinner. Nothing fancy, just baked chicken, potatoes and salad. So easy, I could make it in my sleep, which was good, because I was too preoccupied to focus on anything overly complicated.

It surprised me that I could do this—calmly cook Charlie's dinner as if nothing had happened. As if nothing had changed. I supposed I was still in shock. Still numb. After all, people aren't told every day that they only have a year to live.

What would it be like, dying? Just dropping dead one day and never waking up, ceasing to exist. What would it _feel_ like? Would it hurt? Would I know it was happening?

I really hoped not.

Later that evening when the phone rang I jumped, spraying soapy water from the dishes I was washing all over the counter. I dried my hands quickly. "I got it," I called to Charlie, who was busy watching the game in the living room.

It was Dr. Thompson, wanting to know if I'd talked to my family yet, checking up on me. I pretended to write down the name of the hospital in Seattle that he gave me. I was suddenly grateful that I'd driven to Port Angeles instead of going to my regular doctor in Forks. I had been seeing Dr. Gerandy since I was two years old, and he would have known instantly that I wasn't following up on the treatment when there wasn't a phone call from Seattle asking for my medical file. Now all it would take was a call to Dr. Thompson in a week or so to tell him that my "specialist" had decided to run his own tests, and thank-you-very-much, but I didn't need him anymore. Dr. Thompson would probably be relieved to put the whole thing behind him.

"Who was that?" Charlie asked when I came to sit down beside him on the couch.

"No one," I answered evenly. "Wrong number."

And I didn't feel even a little bit guilty lying to him. God, if I had to die… well, then, I'd do it on my terms.

For the first time in my life.

* * *

**A/N: All the information about Bella's illness came from Merck(dot) com and good old Wikipedia. I'm not a doctor, so if there are any mistakes, I apologize.**

**So what do you think? Good, bad, otherwise? I'd love to know if you think I should continue with this!  
**


	3. Chapter 3: Breaking Point

**I know, I suck! I can't believe it's taken me so long to update this. In my defense my laptop did die (it lasted all four years of college though, so I guess I should be thankful), New Moon came out (ahhhh!) and then there was Thanksgiving. I promise I'll be better about updating from now on - my goal is to do it at least once a week. **

**I've started a playlist for this story. Check out my profile for the link.**

**I also want to thank everyone who has favorited or added this story to their alerts. I recognize a couple of you from my other story Against the Pull of Gravity. I'm glad you've found your way over to this one *waves!***

**Hope you like it!**

* * *

Chapter Three: Breaking Point

_Eager to please,  
Trying to be what they need  
But I'm so very tired  
I've stopped trying to find  
Any peace in my mind  
Because it tangles the wires_

_But if you keep real close  
Yeah, you stay real close  
I will reach you_

Whisper, a Fine Frenzy

~May~

_The end will be sudden. You might not have any warning at all. You might experience some dizzy spells and shortness of breath; your attacks might get worse or fade completely with time. There really is no way to know for certain._

_But certainly, the harder your heart has to work, the more susceptible you'll become to any kind of stress or over-exertion. That means no running, no rigorous exercising or severe excitement; take it slow and gentle… But even if you take perfect care of yourself, eventually your heart won't be able to cope anymore. One day—in six months or a year or sixteen months—your heart will simply stop. _

_But it will be quick, most likely painless. You won't even know what's happening…_

I lay in bed for a long time that night, tossing and turning, my thoughts racing, echoing Dr. Thompson's words. During the daytime it was easier to distract myself with little chores like dinner and laundry, but alone in my dark bedroom there was nowhere to hide. No way to shut my mind off of thinking about a future I would give anything not to face.

The shrill, screaming sound of my alarm clock woke me from an uneasy, hazy dream at 7am—the same time I woke up every morning except Sundays. I groaned and rubbed a hand over my eyes, blindly reaching out to turn the alarm off. I had finally fallen asleep just before dawn, but it had been anything but restful.

I wanted to throw the alarm clock out the window and go back to sleep, but I could hear Charlie already up and about downstairs and I knew he would be expecting his breakfast soon. _Tomorrow_, I promised, tomorrow I would tell Charlie he was on his own with the cooking and then sleep until noon. Today there were too many responsibilities.

Groaning again, I pushed back my tangled covers and stumbled still half-asleep to the bathroom I shared with Charlie.

Most mornings I didn't bother turning on the bathroom light. There wasn't any reason to since the weak grey light from the window illuminated the small room well enough to see by, and the bright fluorescents always hurt my oversensitive sleepy eyes. Not to mention that I found looking at myself first thing in the morning absolutely terrifying.

But today I recklessly flipped the switch. I had to shield my eyes for a few moments until they adjusted, and when I lifted my head I was looking right at myself in the mirror. For the first time in a very long time I looked—_really _looked at myself. And I hated what I saw.

I wanted to cringe, to look away, to turn off the light and run. But some perverse stubbornness kept me there, calmly evaluating the face that stared back at me. Because wasn't this the perfect way to knock down any illusions I still held about myself?

I'd always been pale, even as a child living in Arizona. Pale and thin—nothing but hair and eyes my mother used to say, and it was obvious that I hadn't grown out of that. I was never what anyone would call pretty either, not even when I was seventeen. I was shrewd enough to know that I was ordinary, that my translucent skin was too pale, that my lips were out of proportion and that I frowned too much.

And now, at twenty-six years old I was no longer even ordinary… I looked awful. My dull brown eyes had dark, almost permanent looking circles under them; my skin was sallow and sickly looking. My long hair hung dull against my back. I quickly finger combed it, trying to smooth out the tangles and bring back some of the shine but it was useless. Everything about me was washed out… lifeless.

My gaze went lower, to give my body the same clinical examination as my face. _Too thin. _I winced at the almost skeletal, angular appearance of my body. My bones poked out in funny places: ribs, hips, elbows, adding to my awkwardness. And I knew that the baggy, boring clothes I wore did nothing to disguise it.

It would have been easy to blame the way I looked on the sleepless night and the awful overhead lighting but I knew it was more than that. This wasn't a sudden or temporary change. The person in the mirror was me now. And not because I was exhausted or sick, but because I had simply stopped caring a long time ago. I took one last hard look at myself, then turned away, flipping off the dreadful overhead light, unable to take any more.

…

The only good thing about Friday's was that the library closed at noon so I had the rest of the day off to do whatever I liked. But in spite of this, Friday was my least favorite day of the week. Mostly because that was the day that my mother insisted that I go over to her house for "dinner." Torture, was the more appropriate word.

It was sort of a weekly tradition that had begun when I was in high school and decided that I didn't want to go back and forth between Charlie and Renee's houses every two weeks, since they lived all of fifteen minutes away from each other. Predictably, Renee had thrown a hissy fit, even though I told her I'd still be over at her house all the time.

In the end she'd agreed; I think she realized that without me Charlie would probably starve to death. But before giving in, she'd made me promise that I would go over to her house once a week so we could "catch up." Almost immediately however, the dinners had become an excuse for Renee to start entertaining colleagues from where she worked at the Fork's Elementary school, her husband Phil's business acquaintances, and other friends.

Gradually, these dinners had stopped being about us staying connected and more about impressing the guests with the perfect meal. And still, I was forced to attend.

All through work I was distracted; I kept forgetting to check books in and I messed up alphabetizing a bunch of cards—mistakes I hadn't made since I was in high school. I could barely keep my eyes open after the sleepless night I'd had and I couldn't wait for the day to be over so I could go back to Charlie's and take a nap. After work, I dropped my truck off at the garage for a quick oil change and then raced home for a few blissful hours of freedom.

I almost liked the little house when it was empty. Not that Charlie was such a bad guy to live with, but I liked the feeling of being alone, not having to worry if I was playing my music too loud or getting in his way.

I grabbed a muffin from the kitchen and went upstairs to my bedroom where I threw myself on top of my bed, still fully clothed, exhaustion tugging at every bone in my body. I grabbed my iPod and put it on Foster, my favorite musician in the world. Soft, simple melodies, guitar and piano, a deep gentle voice and bittersweet lyrics. Angela had given me the CD for Christmas and it had rapidly become my favorite. It was bizarre, but the man's music might have been written about my life; how he felt about the expectations placed on him, never feeling that he would live up to them, the fear he felt at not knowing what the future would bring…

I smiled to myself as my favorite song came through the earbuds; I fell asleep to the sound of his voice.

Hours later I woke up feeling better than I had in weeks, maybe months. I couldn't remember the last time I'd taken a nap—not since college probably—and I'd forgotten how wonderful they could make you feel.

That happiness lasted until I glanced over at my beside clock and saw that I only had forty-five minutes until dinner at Renee's. Not that it would take long to get dressed; I had four tried and true outfits on rotation and today it was the brown sweater/ khaki skirt combination's turn.

I hauled myself out of bed and over to the closet. But just as I was about to pull the skirt from its hanger I paused… would it kill me to mix things up a little? to break away from the same old same old.

No, I decided, it wouldn't.

I dug through the rest of the clothes in my closet and bureau and though I found things from middle school, I couldn't find anything that seemed quite right. There was a nice pair of gray pants and black ballet flats that I'd bought on a whim one time, but I couldn't find anything that went with them anywhere.

Discarded piles were everywhere; my room was a disaster, clothes covered literally every flat surface and I was starting to panic as the numbers on the clock blinked steadily closer to when I had to leave. I was just about to admit defeat and pull on my old brown standby when a flash of color from the corner of my eye caught my attention.

I waded through the mess to get to my closet—there, wedged into the very back in a pile of old clothes, I pulled out a sapphire colored blouse. Vaguely I remembered buying it for a Halloween costume at work several years ago. I hadn't worn it since.

It was simple with a v-neckline and short capped sleeves, but it was very different from the clothes I normally wore. More feminine. And tonight I wanted to be different; to be anyone but the same old boring Isabella.

Mindful of the clock, I dressed in a rush and had just enough time to run a brush through my hair, before I raced downstairs. I said a quick goodbye to Charlie, who was in his usual spot in front of the TV and then I was out the door.

It was a cool night, growing colder as the sun began to set; dark clouds were rolling in from the west, promising rain sometime later in the evening. I still had to pick up my truck, but luckily the garage was just down the street, towards the center of town so it wasn't a long walk.

Downtown was dead quiet. I guessed that everyone was at home eating dinner. But a little ways ahead of me, someone was on the sidewalk, walking languidly in my direction.

My heart clenched as I recognized him. Tall, lanky, wearing a leather jacket over a tight navy blue t-shirt, a motorcycle helmet tucked in the crook of his arm...

Edward.

The sun was behind him, and it was like a halo, casting his face in shadow, making his hair gleam molten bronze and copper in the light. He smiled at me as I walked towards him, a friendly lazy sort of smile, and almost involuntarily I felt the corners of my lips tug upwards ever so slightly in response.

A small, timid smile. Just like me.

Our eyes met and we were five feet away— just five tiny feet. And I wanted to move closer but I was scared to. I had never made the first move before, and I couldn't now. Not when my palms were sweaty and my heart was beating like a jack-hammer. Seriously, it was amazing I hadn't dropped down dead. So I looked at him as I walked past. At his jaw and his bright copper hair, at his eyes which were shadowed. And I looked at his lips, still curved upwards in a sweet crooked smile.

Ten seconds, maybe fifteen, and it was the longest fifteen seconds of my life, like time was standing still.

Because he was looking at _me_. Watching_ me_. Seeing _me_.

And for all I knew it was the first time he ever had. And that was too much. A billion thoughts raced lightening speed through my mind. I wondered what he thought of me. If I looked okay? What he was thinking? If I would ever, _ever_ be enough to interest him? Plain, ordinary Isabella Swan. Would he ever want to look at me again?

And my heart pounded and zinged like it had been shocked with a hundred volts of electricity. And my head swam with way too many questions. And I could feel little beads of sweat dripping down along my spine.

And I smiled. The smallest, timidest smile. And I looked at him from under my lashes, wishing that I was brave enough to say hello.

Fifteen seconds— the longest fifteen seconds of my life. And then we were past each other.

I let go of the breath that I had been holding in, and kept walking when really all I wanted to do was run—to get away from him as fast as I could so that when I broke down he wouldn't be anywhere nearby. Ahead, there was bench and when I reached it, I half stumbled, half fell onto it, curling my arm protectively across my chest. There hadn't been any attacks lately, just faint twinges of pain every once in awhile. I was hoping the medicine Dr. Thompson had given me meant I would never have another one again.

I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to calm my racing heart.

His eyes were green.

I'd never been close enough to see that before.

I thought about all the other things I didn't know about him but wanted to. His middle name, his favorite color, his favorite food, what he looked like when he was sleeping. I groaned and shut my eyes tightly—

_Stalker!_

It wasn't normal how he affected me. What he did to me. I _ached—_literally ached. It was the only word I could find to describe the empty, painful feeling in my chest and arms. I wanted to hold him and touch him, and be touched _by_ him. Shit. I had never even spoken to him before and it was the strongest thing I'd ever felt. Magnetic somehow.

I stayed on the bench for as long I thought I could get away with; I would have stayed there all night if Renee hadn't been expecting me promptly at six o'clock. Going there was the last thing in the world I wanted to do, to plaster that fake, blank smile onto my face and pretend the food was delicious, and make boring old small talk about everything that hadn't changed in our lives. But the sun was going down and Renee would be mad at me for making dinner late. And then Phil would be upset that I had made my mother upset. So I stood up, brushing the dirt from the bench off the back of my pants, and walked slowly, dreading what was ahead of me.

I got my truck from the garage and drove to her house, which was on the other side of town. Miraculously, I wasn't going to be late. And as I drove I thought about my mother.

I wondered what she would do if just one time I just didn't show up for dinner. Would she worry about me? Be mad? I had no clue.

When it came to Renee, I never did.

The house that Renee and Phil had bought when she moved back to Forks was medium sized, but immaculately kept up, nothing like Charlie's house. Phil pressure washed the beige vinyl siding every spring to keep it clean. The grass was mowed every five days in the spring and summer like clockwork, and the evergreen bushes trimmed once a week. My mother's bright pink pansies lined the walkway leading up to the front door, where the porch light came on by timer. The inside was immaculate as well; perfect white carpet, designer beige walls, and new furniture. Not a hint of clutter anywhere.

The Renee that liked these things— the clockwork and the tidiness— was nothing like the woman I had grown up with. _She_ had been scatterbrained and messy, had given me little tubs of paint and let me to draw on my walls as much as I wanted. She loved trying new things: yoga, art class, ceramic lessons… and she would proudly display her creations on the mantel, a smug smile on her face whenever she looked at them.

Now her mantel was covered in the latest 'accessories' from Pottery Barn. What had changed? It had been 20 years and I still couldn't figure it out.

Renee had asked me to move in with her when she had come back to Forks, she'd even decorated a room upstairs for me with pale pink walls and a fancy frilly canopy bed to try and get me to change my mind. And even though I'd stayed there every other week most of my teenage years I'd never thought seriously about taking her up on the offer; I could never think of this house as home.

Partly because of Renee's bizarre transformation, partly because of my stepfather… but mostly because of the other girl who had lived there…

"Bella!" my mother shrieked as I walked through the door. She pulled me into a quick hug, excitement radiating out of every inch of her. I was confused as she began to tow me towards the living room. Renee wasn't normally this… exuberant. At least not with me anyway. "You'll never guess—oh it's just the best surprise!" She was grinning hugely. "Phil and I weren't expecting her but she got some free time and—" I tuned my mother out.

A sinking feeling was spreading through my stomach. _Please not now… please anyone but her…_

Rosalie.

She was sitting beside her father on the loveseat, looking perfect as usual. Blonde hair, big, expressive cornflower blue eyes, tiny waist; a supermodel would kill for her looks and body… and my stepsister knew it. Not what I needed to see, today of all days.

Rosalie stood up to hug me. "Bella! I'm so glad to see you," she lied in that beautiful throaty voice that I'd been so jealous of. But then, I'd always been jealous of nearly everything about her.

_She _was the reason Renee and Phil's house had never, could never feel like home to me. To be surrounded by _that _all the time, to be constantly in her shadow? It would have been unbearable.

Renee had been thrilled that Phil had a daughter my age. "She'll be a friend for you Bella. Best friends." But I already knew Rosalie from school, and I knew that my future stepsister and I would never be friends. I was an awkward ten year old, painfully shy, uncoordinated and tongue-tied. And even then, Rosalie was the most beautiful, intimidating thing I'd ever encountered in my life.

I wished I could hate her, it would have been easier. But I never could.

Because as perfect as she was, she was never _mean. _A little condescendingly nice maybe, selfish and conceited and self centered, but not cruel; she never made fun of me, or treated me badly. Mostly I was just ignored. And I couldn't hate her beauty, because there was always so much more to her than that. Even though she was a cheerleader, she got perfect grades and was even accepted into Stanford. And now she was well on her way to becoming a pediatric surgeon.

I couldn't hate her, but I was still crazy with envy. Envious that she was able to move through any situation with total ease. Envious that she knew exactly what she wanted to do with her life. That her beauty gave her such perfect confidence. Wishing that she had shared her tricks with me, let me in on the secret to some of that confidence. Envious that her parents did not need her the way mine did.

And it was it hard to admit, but I was also jealous of the gigantic rock I saw glittering on her ring finger. Not that I needed a diamond the size of a marble; it was more what the ring stood for.

Love.

As if my stepsister wasn't perfect enough, she also got to have the perfect relationship too. After running through a string of boyfriends, she met Emmett McCarty her senior year of college. And I couldn't even hate the guy because Emmett, a football star who now played professionally, was just a big, sweet teddy bear. I'd met him several times, and every time I was greeted with a huge hug and a grin. Emmett was nice.

Some people just have all the luck.

I sat down on the couch beside Renee and took the glass of wine she gave me. We had been having these dinners so long that we each knew our parts perfectly: Renee chatted with the 'guest of the week,' Phil would nod and agree with her every five minutes or so, and I would sit silently, talking only when someone asked me a direct question.

I had tried, in the beginning, to be interested in the conversation around me, to ask questions or make little comments, but Renee would shoot me little looks that said she didn't like me butting into her conversation. So I gradually started retreating more and more. But it was boring, just sitting there, hardly speaking, so I found little ways to entertain myself.

Sometimes I would make up stories about my mother's guests, try to imagine the people they were when their smiles disappeared and their true selves came out. Sometimes I would imagine little stories about myself, dream about all the places I wanted to be instead of in my mother's impeccable living room.

I had always been good at daydreaming. Maybe it was because my own life was so dull but the worlds I created were always vivid and wonderful; my fingers would itch for a pen and some paper so I could capture the bits and pieces I liked best. Still, the dreams were elusive; I could never capture them quite to my satisfaction.

Renee complained about the glassy, faraway look I got on my face during these times. "It's like you're not even here with us," she'd said once, but I'd ignored her. She couldn't have it both ways; I wasn't going to pay attention for two hours to a conversation I couldn't even be part of.

But today, oddly I felt like staying put. It had become such a habit to stay quiet but that didn't make it right. I was suddenly starting to realize how much of my life had been spent with my head buried in the sand. Maybe it was time to start waking up.

So I didn't escape into the daydreams, but listened as my mother and Rosalie squealed over the diamond ring, gushed over Emmett's proposal and Rosalie's new job. I watched my mother's animated face and Phil's smiles and Rosalie's glow.

And I was reminded of why I had always needed to escape. Some things just hurt to see.

We moved into the dining room, and Rosalie and my mother began swapping stories about California where Renee had grown up and where Rosalie was living now.

"Oh gosh," Renee was saying, her high laugh becoming a sigh. "I loved it in Los Angeles, loved growing up there, loved going to college there…"

"Then how on earth did you end up in a place like Forks!" Rosalie exclaimed with a laugh. "You know I don't think I've ever heard that story."

"Oh I came for a job. The elementary school was looking for a teacher and a friend suggested I apply. I was young, naïve; I thought it would be an adventure. And then I got here and it was just total culture shock; no stores, no movie theaters, no good restaurants, or malls. Just trees and rain all the time. I was only planning to stay here a year, but then I met Charlie and we got pregnant." She shrugged. "The rest is history."

Yeah, all of Forks knew that story. Renee was knocked up, there was a quickie wedding at the courthouse and six months later, Isabella Marie Swan came into the world. Not even two years after that, Renee was gone, taking me with her. We'd moved around for two years to different apartments in Arizona, before she decided she couldn't travel the way she wanted with a baby in her arms. She dropped me off at Charlie's, then went back to California, or Chicago, or Dallas. Every birthday and Christmas there was a hastily scribbled postcard and a small present. Sometimes there was even a phone call.

I didn't see my mother again until I was almost eight years old.

I don't know if she started to feel guilty, or if she was tired of wandering, or if she just missed me, but she started visiting every couple months or so and I would go visit her during my school breaks. After years without my mother, I was ecstatic to finally have her back.

It probably would have gone on that way, except that when Renee came back for my fourth grade graduation, she met the widowed father of one of my classmates—Rosalie's dad Phil— and he changed everything. Her sporadic visits to Forks became a weekly habit, until she moved in with him four months later. Two months after that, she married him.

My mother, who could never be tied down by anything, who always had to go her own way and do her own thing, who would never stay in Forks for more than two weeks, not even for her own daughter, moved into a house on the other side of town and settled into happy domesticity.

Well. Good for her.

Renee continued, "I wasn't thrilled about coming back. Phil and I even talked seriously for awhile about leaving Forks. Head somewhere South."

"I remember that," Rosalie exclaimed. "You and Dad asked how I felt about moving but I put up a big fuss! I didn't want to leave all my friends and my house and everything. It was right after the wedding."

"Yeah, we wanted to see how you would feel about it," Renee nodded. "And when you were so vehemently against it, we decided it would best if we stayed."

"I am _so _sorry," Rosalie laughed, and everyone else joined in.

Except for me. I found myself speaking before I even knew what I was saying. "You never asked me how I felt about moving."

The laughter cut off abruptly. Renee looked across the table at me, startled, so did Rosalie and Phil. I fought the blush that flooded my cheeks; I hated being the center of attention, being looked at… judged. But I couldn't blame them; over the last few years it had become my habit to not speak without encouragement.

Renee recovered first. "Well, you were living with Charlie then… I didn't want to take you away from him. He needed you."

"But you weren't even going to ask about how I felt about you leaving again? Right after I got you back into my life?"

"Well… we didn't want to say anything… not until we were sure…" she mumbled, looking down at her full plate.

"It was kind of an important decision though, wasn't it?" My voice was harder than I'd intended.

The awkward silence was broken by the gentle purr of a motorcycle as it drove by. Edward's motorcycle. The one he only rode on nice days; shiny, black, _fast._ Automatically, my head snapped towards the sound but I was too late, he was already gone.

Renee groaned, though I could tell that she was thrilled at the chance to change the subject. "Why on earth doesn't Charlie just arrest him and take away his license?" she asked, rolling her eyes. "That man is obviously a menace."

I could have just let it go; the _old_ me would have done that. I'd decided a long time ago that it wasn't worth it to argue with Renee—she would never, ever admit she was wrong, but I couldn't get over the fact that she had just called him a 'menace.' For driving a motorcycle? It was absurd.

"He's never actually broken any laws you know." I said quietly.

Her eyes narrowed and I recognized the look she was giving me: she was telling me to shut up and go back to my daydreaming. She didn't like where this conversation was headed. I fought the urge to make myself smaller, to shrug away the comment and pretend to agree with her as I'd passively done for the last sixteen years. But I held my ground and stared back unblinkingly.

"Everyone knows he drives to fast—and at all hours day and night! Just the other day Deborah Stanley was telling me that her friend thought she smelled alcohol on his breath. That's just what we need, a drunk on the roads!"

"Mrs. Stanley is the worst gossip in town," I retorted. "I don't believe half of the things she says."

Rosalie cleared her through anxiously. She wasn't used to arguments at the dinner table. Well, neither was I. "Who are you talking about? The person who just drove by on the motorcycle?"

I didn't answer her, just settled back into the uncomfortable wooden chair. Renee looked away, a fake smile on her face as she prepared to 'share the news.'

"His name is Edward Masen, he moved here awhile ago—lives by himself out by the lake. No one knows why he's here or where he's from, but he's certainly made life more interesting since his arrival, I suppose."

"Ooh, mysterious? What's he like."

"There's something very… intriguing about him," she laughed nervously, color suffusing her cheeks. "He's very good looking you know. But the things you hear about him!"

I watched her as she started telling Rosalie about Edward's so called "womanizer" ways. Her eyes were flashing, her lips pulled up into a sharp, predatory grin. She was _enjoying _this, I realized. My mother actually liked spreading horrible rumors about someone she didn't even know—never mind if they were true! Never mind how difficult they were making life for Edward. It was cruel… and the obvious satisfaction she got from it only made it a thousand times worse.

"—when he first moved here his neighbor out on the lake kept hearing all these god-awful loud noises in the middle of the night. Deborah and I are convinced he's a cocaine addict!"

"Again—gossip," I cut in angrily. "Why can't you just leave him alone? He's quiet, he stays out of everyone's way, he's not bothering anyone! He doesn't deserve to have so much shit said about him behind his back just because the nosy busybodies in this town are bored and can't find anyone else to pick on!"

"Isabella Marie Swan—" my mother began, but I held up my hand, interrupting her.

"I'm sick of this." I stood, throwing the napkin down in the table. "I'm done. I have nothing else to say."

Nobody said a word as I pushed the chair back from the table. Their stunned silence was absolute and heavy. I hated the feel of their eyes on me. It was penetrative, it made me feel naked.

I had to get out of there as quickly as possible. Away from Renee and Phil's immaculate plastic house. Away from the woman who was nothing like the flighty, irresponsible mother I'd known until I was nine years old. Away from Rosalie and her perfect face and her perfect clothes and the perfect life she'd made for herself…and away from the damn ring on her finger.

I just had to get away from everything.

Their wide eyes followed me silently, and impossibly instead of intimidating me, it made me feel smug. For the first time in my life I hadn't been the boring old Bella everyone had come to expect; I'd shocked them. It was an empowering feeling.

And thank God I didn't ruin the moment by tripping. I just walked quietly and calmly to the front door, which I closed behind me with a resounding, utterly satisfying _click. _But despite my calm exterior, my insides were raging. I couldn't believe that I had really talked back to my mother—that I had stood up for _Edward Masen_ of all people! And yet, it was the right thing to do, just like getting up and leaving was the right thing to do.

I had put up with their crap for too long. I'd listened to them trash-talk Edward with no proof—because it made them feel better to obsess about someone "different" than look too closely at themselves— and hadn't said a word. I was sick of it. Sick of them. Sick of everything.

I slammed the door to my truck and turned on my iPod, cranking the volume as loud as I could stand. But even Foster couldn't calm me; if anything I only felt more keyed up, more resentful.

Which is why I drove right past Charlie's house. Because I couldn't be anywhere near that mess tonight either. I knew exactly what was waiting for me there: Charlie on his chair, watching a game with a beer in his hand. The same as every Friday night. Every fucking night if I was being honest.

And I didn't want to see it. Because despite everything, I loved my father, and it hurt to see him throwing his life away over a woman who didn't deserve it. Maybe he had given up the idea of ever getting Renee back, but he had never tried to move on, he probably thought he would never find anyone better. But didn't he get it? Anything, any love, was better than sitting alone on the couch night after night!

But I didn't know how to make him see that. I could give as many subtle hints as I wanted—hell, I could even spell it out in black and white—but I still couldn't fix it. I couldn't fix Charlie, or my mother.

But most importantly, I couldn't fix myself. I was broken and had been for a very long time, but I had no clue how to get all the pieces straight again. So I just drove on, not even sure where I was going, just knowing that I needed to get the hell away from Forks. I turned the music up even higher, letting Foster fill the cab over the dull roar of the Chevy's engine, wanting to lose myself in the music.

I wanted to curl up into a ball and pull the covers over my head like I had when I was six years old. Only, the monsters hiding under the bed were so much bigger now, so much scarier And no matter how hard I tried to hide… they always found me.

I had tried, since yesterday afternoon to pretend that nothing had changed, that everything was just as it had always been. It was the dumbest kind of stupid, but I'd done it anyway.

Because what other option was there?

Confess to my family? Go to Seattle and get those mythical treatments Dr Thompson talked about? Accept that I was going to _die_?

The sob that I'd been fighting to keep inside broke through at last, harsh and choked. Alien sounding. I covered my mouth with one hand, trying to hold back the others that desperately wanted escape. My eyes blurred until I had to pull over onto the side of the road because I couldn't see straight anymore.

I turned the truck off and the sudden, intense silence was chilling, it made me feel utterly alone… and I was, for the first time since the afternoon on First Beach. And there was no reason to hold back my tears now; no one would hear me and wonder what was wrong, no one would chastise me, or comfort me, or demand anything from me.

I laid my forehead down on the steering wheel and let it out—let everything I'd tried so hard to push away inevitably crash and burn around me. At last, alone on a dark empty road, I gave into it. Let myself face the consequences of that nightmarish day in Dr. Thompson's office.

I had twelve months. If I was lucky.

I would never see my twenty-eighth birthday. I had to accept that—I _would _accept that. But I couldn't help wishing… wishing that I had gotten to live a little more. For one moment of happiness, pure unadulterated happiness without anything hanging over my head. I wished that once— just _once_— some man had looked at me and felt a tenth of what I had felt when I walked past Edward Masen. It wouldn't be so hard to die then.

I had always held on to the hope that someday I would find that, find _someone._ Believed that I would grow old beside someone, die having loved and been loved. It was a silly impossible dream now… and yet, being forced to let go of it was excruciating.

I would never have my own house. A husband. Children. I would never get wrinkles, or spend Christmases surrounded by my grandchildren. I would never have a wedding with the big poofy white wedding dress I'd always scorned as a teenager.

I drew a deep shaky breath, and wiped away my tears with the palm of my hand.

No more _someday_. No more fantasy. No more lies.

It was time for reality.

I had let myself become stuck in a town—in a life that I didn't want. I had chosen to stay with my father, to let my mother make decisions for me, to work in a job I hated.

Because there was nothing else—no, because I was too scared to try and find anything else. Too scared to make myself vulnerable, to leave what was safe and easy.

But I wasn't afraid anymore. For so long I'd been afraid of the future. Of spending the rest of my life taking care of Charlie and placating Renee. Afraid of being stuck in Forks and never getting enough courage to leave. _Life _had always been the problem—what other people thought of me, what other people expected of me, of my own impossible fantasies. I had always been scared of growing old alone and unhappy, of staying stuck. But I was free now. Death had freed me of those fears and I intended to make the most of it. To live on my own terms, _just mine_.

The time limit was set… but there were no rules as to how I spent those months. I could do whatever I wanted.

Whatever I wanted...

I didn't even know what that was.

…

I ran out of gas in Port Angeles.

It was raining, a cold, drizzly permeating rain that seemed especially claustrophobic after the bright sun of the afternoon. The brief warm spell we'd had the past couple days was over, and now a frigid breeze blew off the water. I shivered, uselessly trying to rub heat into my arms as I waited for my insatiable truck to fill at the gas station. I was miserable: wet, cold, exhausted, and hungry too since I'd hardly eaten a bite at dinner.

There was a diner across the street—one of those old-fashioned 1950's kinds where everything is shiny chrome, white laminate and red vinyl, with the long counter on one side and booths on the other. I'd never been there before, but I couldn't deny that the bright lights made the place look impossibly warm and appealing. I debated for a few minutes, before the growling of my stomach made the decision for me.

Inside, it was brightly lit and practically empty. The only other person was a small woman sitting at the counter staring out the window, a cup of coffee in her hands. I sat down at the nearest table, glad for the warmth. My clothes were soaked through, and dripping onto the vinyl seat beneath me.

The waitress didn't say much, just filled the coffee cup she'd brought and took my order—hot soup—before leaving without a backwards glance. When I caught sight of my reflection in the window, I couldn't blame her. I hugged my arms tight around my ribs despite the heat inside the diner. I looked like a psycho just escaped from the mental institution. I felt kind of like one too. Sick, tired, half drowned…

I sipped at the bitter coffee, even though I'd never liked the taste much. I wanted nothing more than to put my head down on the table and cry; I could hear the _click-click_ of the other customer's high-heeled shoes as she walked past me—maybe when she was gone I would.

And then the footsteps stopped right in front of me. A sudden sweet, high voice made me jump. "Bella?" the voice asked. "Bella Swan?"

I looked up into a pair of beautiful amber colored eyes, hardly believing what I saw.

"_Alice_?"

* * *

**This chapter is the turning point for Bella... everything is going to change now ;-)**

**Leave me a review? Pretty please? **


	4. Chapter 4: Weightless

**This is an all-human story, Alice isn't a vampire just in case the amber eyes made you wonder ;-)**

**Thanks for the reviews, alerts and favorites!**

**Disclaimer: _Twilight_'s not mine, and neither is _the Blue Castle_. Wish they were.**

* * *

Chapter Four: Weightless

_It was cold on a dark starry night  
As the frozen white light  
Shone across my shoes  
As I stood in the darkest blues  
There came a light to rouse me  
And the water that laid before me  
And I could not wait to touch  
The frozen hands that I felt so much_

_I heard a voice inside of me  
I looked up and I saw the sky scream  
And there was life everywhere  
If life is an ocean  
Then I must be on the surface  
Only on the surface..._

-On the Surface, Civil Twilight

Previously:

_And then the footsteps stopped right in front of me. A sudden sweet, high voice made me jump. "Bella?" the voice asked. "Bella Swan?"_

_I looked up into a pair of beautiful amber colored eyes, hardly believing what I saw._

"Alice?"

…

_~June~_

Before I could say another word Alice flung herself at me; I jumped back a little in surprise, but wrapped my arms around her tiny shoulders feeling hesitant and awkward. I could hardly believe that she was really here hugging me. I hadn't seen Mary Alice Brandon since our high school graduation eight years ago.

Eight years? Had it really been that long? Sometimes it seemed like it had been yesterday that I'd donned those awful yellow graduation robes and accepted my diploma. I remembered the girl I had been then perfectly: shy, a little naïve and waiting, always waiting for something better to come along. And then other times it felt like it forever ago, like another lifetime. I would never be the girl who had her whole life waiting ahead of her again.

And it was obvious that Alice wasn't the same girl anymore either. I pulled back so that I could get a good long look at her. She was… stunning, not that she hadn't always been beautiful in an odd, not in-your-face sort of way. Her hair was shorter now, cut into a cute pixie style and she was wearing a trench coat over a tight black pencil skirt. Her mile high red heels would have been mini death traps on me but they looked amazing on her. She looked like a tiny version of Audrey Hepburn, still, there was no mistaking that pointed chin and big amber eyes for anyone else, not that there ever had been. Alice was like no one else in the world.

"Oh Bella, I'm so glad to see you!" she exclaimed. "You have no idea how much I needed to see a friend today."

I smiled back at her, feeling my hesitation slip away. Alice was like that—warm and sweet and good at making people open up and feel comfortable.

Lightning fast, Alice was across the booth from me grinning from ear to ear. "Oh, I knew something good was going to happen to me today! I just knew it!"

I smiled; Alice and her "feelings" were notorious. She'd always been a little odd in high school, the epitome I guess of someone who "marched the beat of a different drummer." She was so tiny—just under five feet—that she looked like she belonged in middle school, and she made all her own bright funky clothes which weren't anything like what the other kids were wearing. She thrived on being different.

There had always been something _not present _about Alice, like she could see things the rest of us couldn't, busy living in a different world. She'd had this way of looking at people with those enormous, indescribable colored eyes that made people feel like she could see straight through them. No one disliked her exactly, but no one knew quite what to make of her either.

Her eccentricities had never bothered me though, since I wasn't exactly what anyone would call normal either. And she was so bubbly and talkative that it made up for my shyness; I'd loved listening to all her funny little stories. We'd never been best friends, I was a little too shy and uncertain for that, but we'd eaten lunch together every day and sat next to each other during classes and on the bus. I'd always regretted that I hadn't tried to stay in touch with her after high school.

"What are you doing here, Alice?" I asked, amazed that of all the days and all the places, we'd managed to bump into each other here in a small diner in the middle of a rain storm.

"I'm living in Port Angeles now. And you?"

"Oh, I just went for a drive," I said vaguely, not wanting to get into anything about the disastrous dinner at Renee's. "I just had to get out of Forks for a while."

"Yeah, my mom told me you're still living there. She says she sees you in the library every now and then." I nodded. "You should hear her talking about you! 'Why can't you be more like Isabella Swan? She's a such a _good girl'_" I raised my eyebrows, shocked that anyone ever wanted their daughter to be like me._ "_She can't forgive me for moving away—although it's not like Port Angeles is the other side of the world, but according to her I was supposed to stay in Forks forever and marry someone like Mike Newton!'

We both made disgusted faces at the same time and burst out laughing.

"You haven't changed at all Alice," I said, shaking my head, unable to stop the smile that tugged at the corners of my lips.

"Nope," she agreed, grinning wickedly. "Much to my mother's chagrin."

I was suddenly happy that I had followed my gut instinct to get away; I could still be suffering through some over-complicated dessert at Renee's or alone in my bedroom at Charlie's, and that would be miserable compared to this. "I'm so glad you're here Alice, I think I needed some cheering up tonight."

She reached across the table to grab my hand. "Me too Bella. You know I always wondered why we didn't stay in touch."

The waitress showed up then with the soup that I'd ordered, and as I ate I told Alice a little bit about what I'd been up to since I'd seen her last. About going away to college in Seattle, being miserable there, and graduating with my degree in English. I told her about moving back home and being asked to work full-time at the library—how I'd only planned to stay there a little while but time had gone by so fast.

Alice sighed softly. "I wish time would go faster for me," she said when I was finished; she looked so miserable that I had to ask.

"Are you okay Alice? You look sad." She just shrugged. "Man troubles?" I teased, hoping to make her smile.

In high school her eccentricities hadn't stopped a small but loyal group of boys from following her around like lovesick puppies. She'd found them endlessly amusing but hadn't taken any of them seriously. I'd wondered then if she would ever be able to take anyone seriously.

Alice only shrugged again noncommittally. My jaw dropped in surprise. "_Really_? A guy? I mean your mom told me there was someone but I didn't really believe her."

"I'm engaged," she grinned, looking more like a mischievous pixie than ever. She held up her left hand and I could see the sparkle of a yellow diamond on her ring finger. I shrieked and grabbed her hand.

The ring was so Alice that I couldn't help but smile; not gaudy but not cookie-cutter either. "Well, he's got good taste, whoever he is."

"Jasper," she nodded. She said his name like it was the only one in the world.

"How did this happen?" I pressed. "How did you meet? When?"

"I was in college back east, it was my junior year. One day I was walking back to my apartment after class and it started snowing like crazy so I ducked into an old diner across the street for some coffee to wait out the storm. And then I just got this feeling—similar to the one I had earlier today only stronger." Her eyes got a dreamy, far away look in them and a tiny smile touched her lips.

"Something was telling me that I had to stay, that I was going to miss something way too important if I left. So I stayed until it started to get dark and the waitresses started giving me weird looks. And then _he _came in and I knew that he was the one I was waiting for."

Her smile widened. "He was this tall, gorgeous blond man. And he came and sat right down next to me and we kind of smiled at each other and that was it. We've been together ever since."

"And you're moping alone in a diner right now _why_?" I cried. Alice's story was the sweetest, most romantic thing I'd ever heard. I couldn't imagine experiencing that certainty. Love at first sight.

"It's definitely not by choice!" she promised. "But he's in Texas I'm stuck up here. It's miserable, but there's nothing I can do about it. He got a new job—he's a history professor at the University of Texas. It's perfect, his dream job; and he's originally from Texas so he was really happy to move back. But he had to move to Austin straight away or he'd lose the job… We see each other most weekends but it's just not the same. He was supposed to come back up this weekend but he had a meeting at the last minute and couldn't make it. Hence the depression."

"Oh Alice that really sucks."

"It's only for the next two months. We're getting married here in August and then I'm going to move down and be with him. I'd be there already if I could, but I have to take care of things at the store."

"Store?"

"My mom never told you about that?" I shook my head. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised; she never wanted me to do it in the first place. Well, after I graduated I sort of wandered around aimlessly while Jasper got his masters degree. Then my old boss called me and told me that the boutique I used to work at here in Port Angeles during high school was for sale and I thought 'what the heck?' I loved working there and I'd thought for awhile about maybe opening my own store. I mean, it's not like I don't have the money."

I nodded. Alice was _very_ well off. Her family had made a killing in the lumber business back in the early 1900's and it had only increased through investments over the years. Her grandfather had always adored Alice and when he died he left her the bulk of his money—something that hadn't endeared her at all to the rest of the family.

"It seemed like perfect timing. So Jasper and I moved back; we've been here for about a year and a half now and it's been great, but I'm looking forward to moving the store down to Austin. I already sold the building, but now I have to inventory the stock and ship it all. It's going to be a ton of work. Jasper does what he can on the weekends he's up here but…" she trailed.

"What about your family? Your sister Cynthia could help you."

Alice burst out laughing at that. "My parents and I get along worse than we did in high school if you can believe it. 'I'm a slut, I'm no good, _blah blah blah_.' I swear my mother would have me committed if she could. I thought she would calm down after Jasper and I got engaged—you know how she is about marriage—but now she's spreading all this crap about how I'm cheating on him with some other man."

I blushed. I knew exactly who that other man was. None other than Edward Masen. The gossip had churned out overtime with that one. "She's told you about it right?"

"Oh," I started awkwardly. "I've heard some things…" Or maybe _a lot _of things.

"Yeah you and the rest of Forks. Like a girl can't just be friends with a guy."

"So… it's not true?"

"God no!" Alice cried. "Jasper is the one for me. Edward and I are just friends. Not that he isn't sweet and good looking—you've seen Edward Masen around haven't you?" I just nodded. _Don't even go there Bella…_ "But he's like my brother."

I tried to keep my voice from betraying my interest. "I didn't think he knew a lot of people around here. How did you meet him?"

"I think it was his very first day here; I saw him standing outside my store and he just looked so confused and lost. So I went and introduced myself."

I smiled. Only Alice… I could never have the guts to walk up to a complete stranger and initiate conversation. But then, Alice had never been shy.

"He told me who he was and that he was thinking about moving to the area. He mentioned that he needed somewhere to stay for a few months and I remembered my grandfather's old camp on the lake; no one had been in there for years but I thought he might like it. It's so out of the way you know? So I told him about it and he said it was perfect. He spent the next week cleaning it out, moved in, and three weeks later asked if he could buy it." She shrugged. "I didn't need it, and I still have to pay taxes on it so I sold it to him. He's been there ever since. And we've been really good friends ever since."

"That must suck though, all the rumors?"

"Jasper knows the truth. That's really the most important thing." Alice drank the last bit of coffee left in her cup, then looked down at her watch.

"Oh it's late!" she cried. "I didn't realize we'd be talking so long." She looked out the window and it was just as nasty as it had been before. "You can't drive home now—not in that rain!"

I wanted to tell Alice that I'd driven in the rain plenty of times before but she didn't let me.

"Why don't you come spend the night at my apartment? I feel so bad: I've been talking non-stop, whining about my life. It's the least I can do."

I thought about it for a second. The long drive back to Forks was really the last thing I wanted to do right now, and the idea of spending more time with Alice was irresistible. I'd forgotten how nice it could be to focus on someone else's problems and forget my own.

"That would be really nice," I said, feeling a little shy. "I should probably call Charlie first though; he'll worry if he doesn't know where I am," I said, embarrassed to have to call my father at twenty-six years old. But I knew that if I didn't Charlie would freak out and not be able to sleep. Or worse, he'd send one of his deputies after me.

I grabbed my cell-phone out of my jacket pocket. "Hey Charlie," I said, when he picked up.

"Bella." I could hear the faint worried tone in his voice. "Your mother called, said you just ran out at dinner… I was worried about you."

"I'm okay Dad, I just needed to get away," I paused feeling awkward because Alice was right there. "You know how mom can be. I just went for a drive."

"Where are you?"

"Port Angeles. I ran into one of my old friends from high school—Alice Brandon. Do you remember her?"

"Mary Alice? Of course I do. I haven't seen her in awhile; say hi to her for me."

"I will. Anyway, she asked if I wanted to spend the night at her apartment since it's late and raining and everything. I just wanted to let you know."

"Oh, okay… that sounds fine. Will I see you tomorrow?" I could tell that he was feeling every bit as awkward as I was.

I told him I would, and we quickly said goodbye. "Okay," I turned back to Alice. "All set."

Her answering smile was blinding. "Great, let's go!"

Alice's apartment was right above the store she owned. It was a cute little brick building, in a quiet but pretty part of Port Angeles, just one street away from the water.

She explained a little about her store as she led me up the stairs to her apartment. "It's kind of a boutique; I sell perfumes, soaps, accessories, some clothing—anything that's pretty and fashionable basically. Mostly the things I love and use myself. I love it because I get to play when I go to work every day!"

Alice's second floor apartment was just like her—open and bright and cheerful. A small hallway opened into a living room that was all white furniture accented with yellow throw pillows and graphic wall art. Everything had an airy cottage feel. It opened up to the kitchen, which was tiny but completely updated. Another hallway led to the two bedrooms.

Alice and I curled up on the couch and watched some _Say Yes to the Dress, _a show that Alice was obsessed with as her wedding was only a couple months away, and drank some hot chocolate. She told me that she'd bought her wedding dress two weeks before Jasper proposed, because she had a feeling that he would be doing it soon.

It was late when Alice led me down the hallway to the room where I'd be sleeping. "Here you go. It has its own bathroom right over there…" she pointed to the door. It was a smallish room, but decorated in the same cottage-y furniture as the rest of the apartment. A white iron bed, white painted furniture, even a small flat-screen on one wall.

"Ignore the boxes," she gestured to the far wall which was stacked floor to ceiling with empty cardboard boxes. "They're for the move but I just haven't gotten around to them yet."

"It's perfect. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

After saying goodnight Alice left. I quickly brushed my teeth and changed into the pajama pants that Alice had lent me. They were more like Capri's on me, but they fit and were comfortable.

I fell back onto the bed—the softest bed I'd ever been in my life—and I smiled.

That night I slept soundly, dreamlessly. It was the best night's sleep I'd had in a very long time.

…

I woke up the next morning just as the sky was beginning to lighten. It was going to be another rainy day but I didn't care.

I wanted to do something nice for Alice, to thank her for letting me spend the night so I decided to make breakfast. After scouring her tiny kitchen for ten minutes I decided on pancakes because there was a jug of really good, unopened maple syrup tucked in one of the cabinets that I couldn't resist.

Cooking had always been something that I was good at. Not because I liked it necessarily, but I'd had to learn out of necessity. Renee had been a… sporadic, adventurous cook. You never quite knew if you were going to get something delicious or disgusting. And then at Charlie's I'd very quickly become sick of pizza, bacon and eggs, diner food, or cereal for dinner. As soon as I'd been old enough to handle the stove by myself, I'd taken over the cooking entirely.

Alice stumbled out of bed twenty minutes later, her hair sticking up adorably in every direction; her eyes widened when she saw the food I had laid out.

"I _knew_ it was a great idea to invite you over," she exclaimed before enthusiastically attacking the pancakes.

After eating two and half, she sat back in the chair, rubbing her stomach. "So I've been thinking about something; I hardly got any sleep last night because of it."

"Yeah? What? about" Alice looked excited and happy, even more so than usual.

She spoke really fast. "I was wondering if you'd like to move in with me. I know it's kind of fast and we haven't seen each other in years, but we've always gotten along really well, haven't we?"

"Alice," I sputtered.

"Please Bella? Just for a couple months until the wedding?"

"But… what about rent and stuff?"

She rolled her eyes contemptuously. "I don't need it! But I _am _lonely— I could use a friend. You could keep me company when Jasper's not here so I don't have to go stalk diners every night."

"That doesn't really seem fair for you."

"Well, if you're really worried, you could help me out with the store and packing. The free labor would probably more than even things out Bella," she grinned. "_Please_? It's win-win for both of us."

I didn't say no immediately. I didn't want to. In fact, every part of my mind was screaming _yes! _Live with Alice. Get away from Charlie and Forks and Renee and my stupid job… it seemed like the perfect opportunity. But what about—

_Don't sabotage yourself Bella Swan_, I told myself firmly._ Let yourself be happy for once!_

This was my chance. I had to stop worrying and over-thinking and just let myself say yes. So I shut off my brain and let my heart speak. "I would love to."

She squealed and ran over to give me a hug. "Oh thank you! You won't regret it. Remember, I know these things."

And for a second, I felt it too. The overwhelming certainty that this was going to be a good thing—better than good maybe. A great thing.

"I know," I whispered, hugging her back.

Alice didn't know exactly how big a deal this was for me. Whatever she said about me helping out with the store and the moving was nothing; she was giving me so much more than I could ever give her in return. She was giving me freedom.

"I'll have to go to Charlie's today and pick up a few things," I said, feeling excited. Or maybe hopeful was the better word.

"Of course, Alice laughed. "I'll be here when you get back."

I felt so much lighter during the drive back to Forks, like something heavy had been lifted off my shoulders; I couldn't tell if it was just anticipation for moving in with Alice or something more. I hummed along to Foster, smiling the entire way.

Charlie surprised me by being home. Normally he left early on Saturday mornings to go fishing with some of his buddies, but when I walked into the house, he was sitting at the kitchen table. It felt like he had been waiting for me.

I said a quick hello, then went upstairs to take a shower and change. I dreaded telling Charlie my news. Not that I was afraid he would be upset or anything—he would probably be happy to have his house back—but for so long it had been just Charlie and me. I wondered what he was going to do without me.

But… it was going to happen one day, in an even more permanent way. This would be a good way to get him used to the idea that I wouldn't always be around.

I sat down beside him on the couch. I didn't really know how to say it, so I decided to just get it over with.

"Hey Charlie, um, I have something I want to talk to you about." Charlie raised his eyebrows questioningly and turned the TV off. "Um, Alice asked me to move in with her, help her with the store and stuff… and I said yes."

"Move in?"

"To her apartment in Port Angeles."

His eyes widened a little; I could tell he was surprised. "What about the library?"

"I call them on Monday and tell them I quit. You know I never wanted to work there forever. I… I think this could be really fun Charlie."

"Then that's good kiddo. Good for you."

I smiled, relieved that that awkwardness was over, and spent the rest of the afternoon in the kitchen making Charlie enough meals to last the week. He stood in the doorway and frowned at me. "I can feed myself Bella," he protested, but I only narrowed my eyes incredulously.

"Ordering pizza doesn't count. Neither does going to the diner every night."

Charlie grumbled a little, but gave up. I was glad; it made me feel less guilty about leaving him if I could do something like this for him.

Packing up my room was even easier. There wasn't really much that I wanted to take with me to Alice's apartment, just a few of my favorite books and some CD's. I grabbed my toothpaste, toothbrush and shampoo from the bathroom, and headed for the closet. I managed to fit everything inside a medium sized suitcase.

After I was done I looked around the room to see if there was anything I would miss.

This room had never really seemed to catch my personality, not like Alice's apartment anyway. Everything there seemed to scream _Alice_ from the funky black and white photographs to the cozy white furniture. My room seemed bland in comparison, devoid of personality. Just like my clothes. I looked down at the pitiful collection, so carefully packed away in my suitcase.

They were all black, brown, and tan with some white thrown in here and there. My bras were all boring and utilitarian, not flirty or god forbid even a little bit sexy. I had never had a remotely pretty bra because places like Victoria's Secret scared the shit out of me, even online.

I frowned.

I wanted to go shopping. Really go shopping. I wanted pretty clothes and fancy underwear and a laptop—I glared at the ancient desktop that I'd never been able to get rid of. That monster had somehow managed to last through high school _and_ college; I'd been waiting for it to die so I'd have the excuse to get a new one but it somehow kept surviving. I didn't want to be frugal, I wanted to turn off that little voice in my head that whispered things like "practicality" and "function" and "financially responsible."

I certainly could afford to blow some of my money; I'd been working steadily since graduating from college, and even though I didn't make much it was still enough for a shopping spree or two.

Especially when I only had to make the contents of my bank account last a year. I smiled; Alice would probably love to help me make an irreparable dent in it.

I gave my room one last once over and determined that I hadn't missed anything. It surprised me a little how ready I was to leave it behind—this had been my bedroom for most of my life but I wasn't particularly fond of it. The memories I had weren't good or bad, just memories.

I was ready to go somewhere new, to experience something different. This was the first time I'd left since going away to college, but now I felt like I had more perspective. I wouldn't take the experience for granted this time, I would enjoy it more and not let myself miss out on anything like I had in college.

I lugged my surprisingly heavy suitcase down the stairs, and it banged loudly when it hit every step. Charlie was in his usual spot in the chair in front of the TV. But when I entered the room he stood up.

I realized for the first time how much older he looked. His dark brown hair was salted with grey at the temples, the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth seemed more pronounced than I remembered. I hated the idea that I would someday cause those lines to deepen, to cause new ones.

"Well, that's everything…" I said.

"Good luck Bells. Call me if you need anything. Or you know, if you just want to talk."

"I will," I answered, even though I couldn't imagine ever having a conversation like that with Charlie.

I started walking over to the door when his voice called me back. I turned around and saw Charlie standing, looking down at the floor, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans.

And then he looked at me. "Love you, Bells."

And that made me feel like crying. Not leaving this house or my bedroom or all my familiar things… but leaving Charlie. I dropped the suitcase and ran back over to him to hug him.

"I love you too Dad," I said into the soft shoulder of his flannel shirt. "I'll call you, I promise."

"You better."

I pulled away from my father and we smiled at each other. We'd always been too much alike, maybe that was why talking to him was so difficult. He helped me take my suitcase out to my truck and waved as I drove away.

I took a deep breath when his house was no longer in sight, feeling more weight slip away from my shoulders until I felt almost like I could fly.

…

"Bella," Alice's voice called from the living room as I climbed the stairs to her apartment. "I want you to meet someone."

"I'll be right there," I called back, carefully dragging my heavy suitcase down Alice's hallway, concentrating on the floor so I wouldn't trip over any of her shoes or bags. Alice was a surprisingly messy person. I shouldered open the living room door and set the heavy bag down against the wall, rubbing my aching shoulder.

I could hear Alice talking behind me and I turned around to face Alice's visitor…

I looked up into a pair of bright jade green eyes. My entire body froze and I could feel my eyes going wide in surprise.

I knew that face.

I knew those eyes and that skin and that hair and that damn jaw.

"Hello." His voice was stunning, deep and sort of rough. "My name is Edward."

I stared. He was here. Right in front of me. Close enough so that I could touch him if wanted to, just reach out and run my hand across his broad shoulder. It was the closest I'd ever been to him.

He was looking at me too, that familiar crooked grin on his face, one eyebrow raised, waiting for me to say something. I forced my stunned brain to concentrate, to remember the right words to say. "Hi," I squeaked. Mortified, blushing all the way to the tips of my ears, I cleared my throat and started over. "My name is Bella."

There. I'd done it.

I'd actually said more than two words to Edward Masen.

And now I wanted to go faint… or throw up.

* * *

  
**There... It only took four chapters for Edward to meet Bella. Now what?**

**Remember, reviews really are love. They also make me feel guilty so I write faster ;-)**


	5. Chapter 5: A Mouse in a Cage

**Disclaimer: all character's belong to Stephenie Meyer. I'm just playing around with them ;-)**

* * *

Chapter Five: A Mouse in a Cage

_I'll find my way again  
I never thought that I could make such a mess  
I got this feeling that it's gonna be all right  
And I'll begin again tonight _

Draw me a picture  
Draw it in color  
'Cause I wanna see my life through  
Someone else's eyes

-Draw My Life, Fauxliage

_~June~_

Alice was talking.

Her voice sounded far away though, like a faint buzzing in my periphery. Absently, I heard her say my name a couple times— I wondered what she was saying but for the life of me I couldn't seem to care enough to get my brain to focus.

Vaguely, I knew that at some point in the past five minutes I'd left the entranceway to sit down on the couch; I could feel the remote digging uncomfortably into my side, but I didn't have the guts to move it. My whole body felt jittery and unsteady, my heart was beating so loudly that I could feel it all the way to the tips of my fingers.

I was pretty sure I was blushing though. Not an awful burning blush that made me feel like my face was going to melt off, but a half excited, half terrified flush that extended all up to my ears.

I was horrified but not very surprised. After all, Edward Masen was sitting five feet away. And he was looking at me.

I gave my head a small, frustrated shake. _Pull yourself together damnit! _

Willing myself not to do something stupid like fall off the couch, I slipped off my ballet flats and pulled my knees tight against my chest. Any body language expert would have said my posture was closed off, protective, defensive. They would have been right.

I wasn't used to this. Just casually sitting in an apartment talking to friends. I had never really done it before aside from a few times with Angela in college. That had been a long time ago though, and for the last four years I'd basically been living as a hermit. Right now I was completely outside my comfort zone.

Because he was still looking at me.

I'd never been so close to him before, or been able to see so much of him before. Or heard him speak before.

But here he was, sprawled out on Alice's white chair, saying something about being sorry that Jasper hadn't been able to come up for the weekend. And I was trying to convince myself that I wasn't somehow hallucinating.

The first time I ever saw Edward I wondered if he was real. He'd been so untouchable, unreachable, and it was mostly for that reason that he'd held such fascination for me. Not just because he was beautiful, but because he always gave the impression of being so _free,_ of not being held down by anything or ruled by anything. He didn't care what people said about him, he didn't try to win anyone's approval.

He had his cabin on the lake and his Volvo and his motorcycle. He drove ten miles over the speed limit everywhere because he wanted to. He didn't worry about making friends or fitting in.

He just lived. Unapologetically. On his own terms.

And because I'd always been so ruled by these things I envied him that ability.

But with him sitting right in front of me, I began to see that the Edward I'd created in my head—borne of a couple sightings and an overactive imagination—was probably nothing like the real Edward.

Because he was a person. Actual flesh and blood. And I was close enough to see the stubble on his jaw and the faint tired lines around his eyes, the wrinkles in his clothing. When I'd walked past him I'd smelled laundry detergent, Old Spice, motor oil and _man._

Real things. Things I could never have imagined on my own.

It was unnerving. And exhilarating. The surface of my skin hummed with electricity. Every time he spoke, every time his eyes flickered towards me…

Because I liked this Edward— the real Edward— better than anything that had ever lived in my head. I liked the way he was constantly running his hands through his hair, a sort of nervous habit almost, making it stick up in all kinds of crazy directions that looked good on him. I liked his crooked half-grin.

I _liked_ that he was looking at me.

"I've seen you before haven't I?" Edward said suddenly, making me jump. "Yesterday. You were walking down the street."

I ripped myself away from my daydreaming and stared at him. He was talking to me. Expecting me to answer. "Um, yes," I replied, too quickly. "I remember that."

An easy smile spread across his face. "You looked like you were in a hurry."

I couldn't believe that he actually remembered that. Remembered _me._ Granted it hadn't been all that long ago but still…"Yeah, I had to go pick up my truck at the garage before it closed."

"The really old red Chevy?" he asked, eyebrow raised. I nodded, feeling defensive because of the way he'd said _old_. The truck wasn't that old—it was a classic. Edward noticed my expression and didn't even try to disguise his laughter. "I've seen that truck around. I didn't know it was yours."

Was he teasing me? He wouldn't be the first; not many people understood my devotion to that pile of rust. Surprisingly, I didn't mind so much with Edward. "Is there a problem with my truck?" I asked, uncurling my legs from underneath me, leaning closer towards him.

Edward relaxed, and stretched his long legs out in front of him. "No." The way he said it told me he was definitely teasing me.

"Good, because I _love _my truck," I said firmly. "It may not be pretty but the thing is indestructible; it would make mincemeat of your Volvo—" I shut myself up quickly so I wouldn't sound too much like a stalker.

But Edward didn't seem to notice or care that I knew what kind of car he drove. He leaned closer, resting his elbows on his knees. "Do you get into accidents a lot?" he asked, his eyebrow raised. I ignored the butterflies that erupted in my stomach.

"It's been a couple years," I answered, remembering an ice storm in high school that had left me with a dented fender. "But I'd rather be safe than sorry."

"What about me in my wimpy Volvo?"

Jesus Christ. Was he _flirting_? I tried to keep my voice light as I replied. "Not my problem, sorry."

Edward's grin was back. There was a smile on my face too as we looked at each other; I felt lightheaded, dizzy. And then I heard the sound of a throat being cleared beside me.

Shit. Alice. I'd practically forgotten that she was in the room with us.

"Bella, stop picking on Edward," she teased. I flushed and threw myself backwards into the sofa. Edward chuckled but relaxed too, crossing his arms in front of him and settling back into a more comfortable position.

I was too embarrassed to speak much during the following half hour that Edward stayed. When someone spoke to me, I responded; I laughed when someone said something funny, I smiled until my cheeks began to hurt. But I wasn't capable of more than that. At least not right now.

Something about the easy, comfortable way Alice and Edward interacted made me feel like it was normal for him to just stop by whenever he felt like it. I wondered what it would be like to see him on a regular basis. I couldn't really wrap my head around that reality but I was glad because it meant that I would have plenty of time to get used to being around him. To desensitize myself to the effect he had on me.

When I stood up to say goodbye as Edward was leaving, I was surprised by how much I had to crane my neck to see him. He was tall, taller than I'd thought at first, and lean. I could see the well-defined muscles of his shoulders and arms through the long-sleeved t-shirt he wore.

He reached out his hand and when our fingers touched, I jumped at the sudden bolt of electricity that passed between us. I stared up at him, needing to see if he had felt it too.

Edward looked back down at me, his stunned expression meeting mine.

"Nice to meet you Bella," he said quietly, and the pressure of his hand increased for a fraction of a second before he let go. Instantly, I missed his warmth. "Thank you—" he murmured. "For agreeing to move in with Alice I mean. She's been really lonely lately with Jasper gone and everything."

"Of course," I stuttered. "I'm the one who should be thankful though; she's being really good to me."

He considered this for a moment. "Sounds like you both needed each other then."

I nodded and smiled up at him. "I think you're right."

Edward turned and waved goodbye to Alice and then he was gone. I stared at the door for a few long moments, feeling equally stunned and thrilled.

I had met him, talked to him—even flirted a little—and I'd managed to do it without making a fool of myself.

Were pigs flying somewhere and I just hadn't heard about it yet?

"Is he really as bad as everyone says he is?" I asked Alice suddenly, still staring at the door.

I heard her laugh behind me. "There's something really charming about him isn't there? It's disarming."

I turned towards her, frowning a little because she hadn't answered my question. "He just doesn't seem like that type of person. He seems so… good."

I felt silly for asking, but all of the sudden I just needed to know. I looked at Alice intently; he had to be good, right? Would she really be friends with him otherwise?

But there was a strange expression on her face as she considered her answer. "What… what would you do if the rumors were true?" she asked. The look on her face said she knew exactly why I was asking her this.

I stood up quickly and walked over to my suitcase where I played with the pockets for a few seconds, pretending like I was looking for something. I didn't like feeling so bare, like all my secrets were out on display for her to see. Especially not when it came to Edward. My feelings—whatever they were—would never lead to anything. It was better that no one ever know about them but me.

When I was brave enough to look up again, Alice was still watching me.

"Maybe they're true," she said softly. "Maybe they're not. The only thing I can say is that I've known Edward for a while now and I like to think we're pretty close. But he has never, not once, told me anything about his past. He's hiding from something. A personal demon, something he did, who he is—I don't know. And I don't think he'll ever tell me."

I nodded, understanding what Alice was really saying.

_I don't think he'll ever tell _you.

My face felt suddenly hot and I knew that I needed to change the subject quickly; it had become too uncomfortable, too personal. I smiled and curled back up on the couch, trying to pretend that the conversation hadn't bothered me at all. I grabbed at the first thing that popped into my head.

"So Alice, I was wondering if sometime you'd go shopping with me? I've been needing some new clothes for awhile now."

She didn't even blink at the abrupt change in topics. A wide grin broke out across her face. "Like you even have to ask Bella. We'll go tomorrow."

The rest of the night passed quietly, and I could tell that Alice and I were quickly settling into a routine. I had been feeling a little… off ever since Edward left, but I'd written it off as over-excitement, too distracted to notice the first signs of tightness around my heart.

It had been almost a week since my last attack, though there'd been slight twinges every now and then that I'd been able to fend off pretty well with the medication Dr. Thompson had given me. One pill to take every day no matter what, and one at the first sign of any pain.

But as I lay in bed, exhausted after such a long day, the prick of pain turned into a full-fledged stab that I could no longer ignore. I rolled over, reaching for the pills that I'd tucked in my nightstand. I wasn't sure how long it would take for them to kick in, or even if they'd work at all, but there was no option but to grit my teeth and wait for it to be over.

I'd gotten good at staying quiet during these attacks. Even when they became so overwhelming that all I wanted to do was cry out, sob, groan, I held it in. I hadn't wanted Charlie to hear me during these times—he would just worry. And now I didn't want Alice to hear me either. This was one burden she didn't need.

I rolled over onto my side and wrapped my arms tightly around my chest.

Any minute now it would be over.

Any second now I would be able to take a deep breath without the sharp stab that accompanied it. The tight constriction would ease, the pain would numb.

I closed my eyes and pictured Edward's face. The smile he'd given me when he'd teased me about being a road hazard. That jolt of electricity I'd felt when our fingers had touched.

I'd always been good at living inside my head—retreating when the real world got too tough— and that's what I would do now, I decided. I would push away the present, push down on the overwhelming pain. Distract myself with better, happier, more beautiful things.

I exhaled slowly, breathed in deeply.

_  
Edward's eyes_.

I stretched a little, trying to ease the tightness in my rigid shoulders.

_Edward's hair_.

I clenched my fist until my fingernails cut into the fleshy part of my palm. That was good; new pain was distracting.

_Edward saying my name._ _"Nice to meet you Bella…"_

I replayed our conversation in my head, then imagined new conversations, imagined making him laugh again. He had a beautiful laugh, deep and warm.

I don't how long I lay there, but at last, I felt the throbbing begin to ebb. I could take deeper breaths without it tearing razor sharp into my lungs. I could move without feeling like it would make my body shatter.

The hair around my face curled, damp with sweat; it pooled around my bellybutton and shoulder blades, soaking my thin t-shirt, making me shiver. I really wanted a shower, but I knew my abused muscles would never make it there. As with all my attacks, this one left me too exhausted, too physically drained to move more than an inch. I closed my eyes and sank into soft blankets, wishing for the numbness of sleep.

But I couldn't seem to get there. My body was pushed to the limit, but my mind was still wide awake, thinking about Edward, and buzzing with Alice's words. _What would you do if the rumors were true?_

What _would_ I do? Would I think less of Edward? Would it extinguish that strange spark that I'd felt between us? Did I care so much about hypothetical what-if's that I'd throw away the chance to be Edward's friend? Was I really as judgmental and close-minded as people like Mrs. Stanley and Susan Mallory and my mother to alienate Edward for things that only _might _have happened?

I didn't want to be that person. I wanted to be better than that.

But one thing was for certain: Edward had secrets. I would probably never know what in his past had driven him to run all the way to a remote cabin in the Olympic Peninsula. I'd just have to trust my first instinct about him and believe that he was a good person. And I wouldn't dig into a past that had nothing to do with me.

After all, he wasn't the only one with secrets.

I burrowed deeper into the blankets, feeling easier now that I'd made my decision. I smiled a little as I drifted to sleep; Edward and I were going to be friends.

…

The next morning, Alice showed me around her store.

It was a bright, wide-open space that was exactly what I expected: all feminine and nice smelling and _Alice_. It was Sunday and the store was closed so we didn't have to worry about customers as she showed me around the shop and outlined what I would be doing. It sounded pretty easy and I was looking forward to starting work.

I couldn't help but glance through the clothes, wondering if I would see anything I liked. I was determined to get out of my frumpy colorless clothes, especially if I was going to be working in a place like this. Alice kept flinging different things at me but most of it was a little too… stylish for me.

There was one dress, gray natural silk with a delicate print on it that caught my eye, but my practical nature reasserted itself and wouldn't even let me look at the price tag. I couldn't remember the last time I'd worn a dress but it had been years, and I couldn't justify buying something just because it was pretty.

I could tell Alice was having as blast as she showed me around, giggling and joking. It surprised me how easily we got along even though it shouldn't have. All of the awkwardness and shyness that dominated the way I normally dealt with people was gone with Alice, and I had never experienced anything like that before.

Maybe I'd just been hanging out with the wrong people all my life.

After lunch, Alice was true to her word and she took me around to other stores in Port Angeles and Sequim. I knew she was itching to take me to Seattle but I wouldn't let her get too crazy. I wanted to look good but the fact was I would only be wearing these clothes for a year; they didn't need to be designer.

Still, I managed to get everything I was looking for—cute shirts and polka dotted bras and jeans that Alice said made my ass look good. I even blew a huge chunk of money on a laptop that wouldn't take six hours to connect to the internet. I was in heaven.

Later that night, I finally started putting away my things in the bureau and closet Alice had given me to use. And I finally felt good about the things I had to put there.

The first thing did on Monday morning was go to the Forks Public library and tell Susan Mallory that I wasn't going to work there anymore. I'd toyed around with the idea of just calling them with the news, but it seemed pretty rude considering I'd been working there for the last three and half years. Besides, I wanted to see the look of shock on Susan's face when I told her I was quitting.

She didn't disappoint either.

When I had finished explaining, obvious panic shot across her features and I had to bite back the smile that rose inside of me at the sight. I knew exactly what she was thinking too—about all the shitty jobs that she'd shuffled over to me over the years and how she was going to have to do them herself now. Her eyes flickered towards to the full book cart and the tall bookshelf in the very back of the library.

Yeah, I thought to myself a little too vindictively, good luck shelving the oversize books by yourself, lady. Maybe now that damn deathtrap ladder will get fixed.

But knowing Susan, she'd probably call the whole thing hazardous and let the books pile up in a corner somewhere for the next couple months.

Still, it was incredibly satisfying watching her squirm and give me an awkward hug goodbye. Almost as satisfying as hearing the door close behind me knowing that I would never have to go back there again.

Not that it had been an awful place to work; right after I'd graduated from college it had seemed like a great opportunity to tide me over for a year or so until I found something more permanent. But that year had stretched quickly and nothing had changed; I'd felt stagnant working there.

I was hoping it would be different with Alice; in fact I was determined to make it different. With the memories of all the things that hadn't worked at the library fresh in my mind, I drove back to Port Angeles ready to start helping Alice out every way I could.

The next three days practically flew by. Alice and I quickly settled into an easy routine; we spent a lot of time together but it wasn't suffocating or annoying like I'd initially feared. Every day I felt like I was getting to know her better, and that I was gaining a best friend in the process.

Edward dropped by several times. Every time I walked into a room and saw him there it felt like my heart was going to beat out of my chest, but I was getting better at disguising the inward whirlwind that his visits threw me into. I was even getting better at relaxing and being myself around him too, though I still liked it best to just sit back and listen to him talk. He had the most calming voice, and though he didn't say much, everything he said was worth waiting for.

But maybe I was just biased.

On Thursday afternoon I was in the office sorting through boxes of things that needed to be inventoried and put out on display when Alice—out in the front of the store—gave a piercing shriek. It startled me so much that the stack of papers I'd been holding flew out of my hands, and I ran out to make sure that Alice wasn't being murdered or something. I barely managed to catch sight of her back as she ran out the door.

Confused, I followed her to the window and watched as she threw herself into the arms of a man who stood on the sidewalk in front of the store. He spun her around once, twice, then kept her there in his arms as he kissed her. He had to, since she was so much shorter than him.

I realized that this must be Jasper. A small thrill of apprehension shot through me; I was excited to meet him but also nervous too. Alice obviously worshipped him and I worried about what would happen if we didn't get along or if he felt like I was intruding on their limited alone time.

So, trying to be respectful, I backed away from the window and let them have their reunion in peace.

It didn't take long for Alice to run back inside, shouting my name. "Bella!" she cried, flinging open the office door. "He's here!"

"Jasper?"

She nodded and grabbed my hand leading me to the stairs that led up to her apartment, flipping the sign in the front window so that it read 'closed' as we walked past.

"He took the day off so that he could come visit me a day early," she explained, giddy as she opened her door and dragged me by the hand towards the tall ma who stood facing the window, his back to us. "Bella," she said her voice high and lovely and happier than I'd ever heard her. "This is Jasper."

He'd turned instantly at the sound of our footsteps, a slow smile spreading across his lips as we came closer. For a split second I felt like an intruder when I saw the expression in his eyes when he looked at Alice. It was like there was no one else in the world for him. I felt a sharp pang of jealousy, but pushed it away quickly. It wasn't the right time.

After sharing a long look that somehow managed to seem more intimate than any of the make out sessions I'd witnessed between Rosalie and Emmett, they simultaneously turned to look at me.

Jasper didn't look like any professor that I had ever seen before. He was tall and blond, his skin lightly tanned. But it was his eyes that immediately grabbed my attention: they were a shocking gunmetal gray and slightly unnerving. He was handsome, he really was, but far more reserved than bubbly Alice.

Jasper smiled and extended his hand. "Nice to meet you Bella."

"Nice to meet you too," I said, feeling a little shy, my fears that Jasper wouldn't like me rushing back.

But just a few hours later my anxiety was long forgotten as we sat around Alice's dining room table, finishing dinner. Jasper had a wicked sense of humor, very dry, and he was so easy going that it was impossible not to feel comfortable around him.

Alice was just getting the ice cream out of the freezer when a loud knock sounded at the door, silencing the conversation abruptly.

My head swiveled towards the sound. "Is that Edward?"

Alice shook her head. "No, Edward never knocks," she answered, looking confused.

There was another loud tap and then a voice called "Bella?"

I recognized that voice. "_Phil?" _Shooting a bewildered glance at Alice and Jasper I went over to open the door. "It's my stepfather."

I couldn't believe that he was here, at Alice's apartment. During the past couple of days I'd begun to feel that my old life was a million miles away and the sudden intrusion was unsettling. And then for it to be him of all people…

Phil and I had never had a very easy relationship. When he'd married my mother I'd been a little scared of him; he never said very much and he was big and intimidating. As I'd grown up I began to like him a little better—he was always wonderful to my mother and I couldn't really ask for anything more than that—but our relationship had stayed… okay. We'd never be close or anything, we didn't have enough in common for that, but we didn't hate each other either. Most of the time we just ignored each other.

Which was why I couldn't understand what on earth would have brought him to Alice's apartment. I opened the door, but before I could say a word, Phil stepped inside. He nodded at Alice and Jasper, eying them a little warily, then turned towards me.

"Hello Isabella."

I was worried that he was going to tell me something bad had happened to Renee. "What are you doing here Phil?" I asked, my voice a little too high.

"Your mother asked me to come," he replied, still eying my friends. "She heard from Mrs. Stanley yesterday that you had moved out. Do you have any idea what it was like for her to hear that from a stranger? She was devastated."

I stared at him. _This_ was why he had come? Because my mother was mad at me? What had happened to the telephone? "I forgot," I said stupidly. "I'll call her tomorrow and apologize"

"I think it would be better if you came home with me right now." My eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Renee misses you; she doesn't like you being here all by yourself."

"I'm not alone; I have Alice. Besides, I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

Phil didn't seem to like my answer; it suddenly dawned on me the real reason why Renee had sent him see me: he was supposed to bring me back with him. Because I had made this decision without asking her, without even telling her. She couldn't stand that.

"Come on Isabella, you've never been on your own before. Why not take some time and really think this through. And then, if you're sure, we could help get you your own apartment. We're just not sure if now is the best time... you've been acting so strangely the last couple weeks, everyone's noticed. I'm sure Susan would take you back at the library if you asked her to."

I shook my head, anger starting to swell up inside me. "Phil, this isn't anyone's business but my own. I'm sorry I forgot to call Renee, I can see why she's upset. But I'm happy here—I _like_ it here." I shook my head. "I'm not going anywhere,"

Phil's eyes narrowed slightly. "Now I think I've been really good about this, but it's gone too far. Renee's frantic. Charlie's lonely. This isn't just about you. What about your father? Do you know what it's doing to him not having you around?"

I reeled back, feeling like I'd been punched in the gut. That was my sore spot, the one thing guaranteed to make me crumble. No one else needed me, not really. No one except Charlie. Guilt welled up inside me as I pictured him all by himself, eating God knows what—and damnit, it was hard to remember that it wasn't _my _job to take care of him.

"Charlie's an adult," I stammered, sounding unconvincing even to myself. "He… he needs to get used to being on his own sometime. I couldn't stay there forever."

"You could have given your parents time to get used to the idea; don't you agree that this is all happening very fast."

Fast? I almost laughed despite the guilt. No, this was long overdue.

"Why does everyone get make their own decisions but me? I stayed as close to home during college as I could for Charlie and Renee—I moved back because they wanted me to stay in Forks. I'm twenty-six years old Phil! When do I get to start making my own decisions? When do I get to live my life?"

Phil looked at me, a stunned expression on his face and took a step back. "I'd like to speak to Isabella alone please," he asked Alice and Jasper after a few moments. My face flamed; I'd forgotten that they were still in the room with us.

"I'm not leaving unless Bella asks me to," Alice said quietly, her wind-chime voice sounding hard.

I shook my head. "I want them to stay." I was afraid that without them around to remind me of the good things I had here, I'd crack under the pressure.

He grumbled but seemed to make up his mind. He leaned in closer so that they wouldn't be able to hear him. "Think about this Bella. Think about where you are! What do you really know about these people? I mean, _Alice Brandon_?" he hissed. "I have heard nothing but bad things about that girl since she started hanging around Edward Masen. Deborah Stanley said that he's here all the time… I don't like it."

"You don't have to like it!" I yelled. The guilt that knotted up my insides was quickly becoming anger. Hot, pulsing fury that he would say that about people I considered to be my friends.

Phil's eyes tightened angrily, his face turned red and splotchy. He wasn't used to me saying no to him and to be honest, I wasn't either. And I'm sure he was thinking about what Renee would say to him if he failed to bring me home.

Something in him seemed to snap. "That's enough! We'll come back and get your things later." He grabbed my wrist and began to pull me towards the door. I dug my heels into the carpet but he only held on tighter.

But Alice had run over and she stood blocking the doorway. "She doesn't want to!" she cried, angrier than I'd ever seen her before. "Let go of her!"

Phil snorted and extended his arm to push the tiny woman away—

But before he could even lift his hand, Jasper was suddenly there, _very_ there, insinuating himself between them. Phil looked up at him and swallowed nervously. Instantly, he dropped my arm.

"You need to leave now," Jasper said calmly, his gray eyes intense and hard as he stared at Phil. "I think Bella has made her choice perfectly clear."

Phil floundered. "She's my step-daughter, I have a right—her mother—" but Jasper shook his head and shot Phil a look that shut him up instantly.

"It's not your decision to make."

But Phil couldn't give up without one last desperate shot. "Come home—for Charlie's sake…"

I shook my head and stared down at the floor. From behind me I heard the sound of the door opening, but I ignored it, trying to steel myself against the way my stomach twisted at the mention of Charlie's name.

I took a deep breath, pushing away the image of Charlie, alone in that house. "I want you to leave. Now."

There was a light touch on my shoulder but I didn't react, because the sensation was so familiar—like electricity humming against my skin—that I knew exactly who it was. "Are you okay Bella?" Edward asked quietly in my ear; I could feel his breath fan across my cheek.

Phil made a disgusted noise and glared at us, only causing Edward to step closer to me. I twisted a little so I could see him, but he was looking down at the arm I was rubbing absently… the one Phil had grabbed. Edward's other hand came to rest on my shoulder and his eyes hardened.

Phil seemed to realize that it was over, and without saying another word he brushed past us; Edward slammed the door behind him.

"Are you okay?" Edward asked again. I nodded, feeling slightly stunned. Alice came and stood next to me, concern in her eyes and I knew I had a lot of explaining to do. I wasn't particularly looking forward to sharing my skewed family life, but at that precise moment I didn't care.

I looked around me and saw Alice's concerned face and Jasper's quiet protectiveness. Edward was next to me, still touching my shoulder, still close enough so that I could feel his breath on me… _This _is what I chose—what I would continue to choose for as long as I could, and I wasn't leaving it for anything. Not even for Charlie.

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**Merry Christmas! **


	6. Chapter 6: Sing Your Melody

**Disclaimer: Twilight isn't mine. Except in my head.**

**Author's Note: I hope you've all had a wonderful holiday. I did. I'm rested, well-fed and ready to begin writing again!**

**I'm sorry I didn't reply to your reviews for chapter 5 – I was traveling for the holiday's and my internet situation was a little iffy. And then when I got back home I figured you'd probably like an update better anyway. But I've read and loved all of them. THANK YOU to every one who has taken the time to review this story. Seriously, you guys are the best! I wish I could crank out updates for you, but I'm seriously one of the slowest writers on the planet. I'm working on it though, and I promise I won't give up writing this fic.**

**Enjoy!**

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Chapter Six: Sing Your Melody

_I don't know you  
But I want you  
All the more for that  
Words fall through me  
And always fool me  
And I can't react  
And games that never amount  
To more than they're meant  
Will play themselves out_

-Falling Slowly, Glen Hansard

~July~

I had been living with Alice for over three weeks, and every day I felt my 'old life,' as I had taken to calling it, slip further and further away.

When I woke up every morning it was without the sense of heaviness and unhappiness that I'd become so used to over the years; I felt lighter, excited even. And yet, it wasn't the easiest transition to make. I'd gotten so used to living a certain way, for my days to take certain patterns and now all those old habits were being completely overturned. It took some adjusting.

Still, if it had been anyone but Alice I would have had a harder time of it. With her there was no pressure, she was simply fun to be around. Her enthusiasm for everything was infectious.

It was late on a Thursday night, and Alice was sitting on the floor in front of the couch, surrounded by stacks of she called simply 'wedding stuff.' There were binders, magazines, fabric swatches, photographs… it was weirdly fascinating, and kind of frightening too.

I didn't know where Alice's energy came from, but she woke up early every morning, spent the day running around the store like a pixie on crack, sat down just long enough for me to feed her dinner and then she worked until bedtime—either on details for her wedding or on the move down to Austin. The only time I ever saw her relax was when Jasper called or Edward came over. Often, I felt exhausted just watching her.

I tried to help her out as much as I could, mostly because I felt guilty sitting around when she was working so hard. Nothing that she gave me to do was very hard though and I knew I was getting off easy. Still, just getting a few good meals into her every day made me feel better.

"Bella," Alice called, and I walked over and sat down beside her on the floor. "When do you want to go to Seattle to choose a bridesmaid dress?" she asked, distracted.

"What?" I asked, confused. Seattle? Bridesmaid's dress?

"We better go soon," she continued. "I want to find you something really pretty."

"What?" I asked again. I was definitely missing something important.

At this, she looked up from the notebook she'd been hastily scribbling into for the first time since she'd started speaking to me. "Didn't you know? You're going to be my bridesmaid."

She said this so simply, as if it were already a given, but it was so not what I had been expecting. My mouth dropped open in surprise.

At the look on my face she put down the notebook and smiled brilliantly at me. "Like I could get married without you! Maybe it's kind of fast but we were always friends weren't we?" dumbly, I nodded. "And now we're better friends than ever. I'd be so happy if you were in my wedding, will you please be my bridesmaid Bella?"

"Of course I will Alice!" I cried and hugged her tightly. I felt completely stunned and shocked… and kind of proud too. That Alice liked me that much. I'd never been close enough to anyone to be asked that before.

After a few moments, when our giggling had finally calmed down I asked, "So who else is going to be in your party?"

"Just my sister Cynthia," she shrugged. "She's going to be my maid of honor—my mom threatened to never speak to me again if she wasn't included. She's okay though. I figure when she gets out from under our mother's thumb when she goes to college in the fall she'll turn out okay."

I smiled; Alice's problems with her family were notorious.

"I thought about having some of my friends from college too but there's only a couple I've kept up with over the years." She sighed and began piling all the papers she had spread out in front of her into a messy jumble. "I'm too tired to do any more of this tonight. It's starting to seem endless."

"Weren't you and Jasper supposed to be having a small wedding?" I asked.

Alice rolled her eyes and shook her head. "That's what I thought until Jasper's entire extended family decided they wanted to come. I thought getting married here would solve that problem but it doesn't seem to be stopping anyone." She finished shoving everything into a messenger bag and then lay back down on the floor.

"You need to relax Alice," I said as gently as I could. "You've been working way too hard lately."

"That's what Jasper keeps telling me too," she said, stretching a little. "I'm starting to think he's right. You know, there's this concert in Sequim this weekend—some famous local band, we should go. Jasper would be thrilled to get me away from this place for awhile."

I nodded, feeling a little reluctant for a reason I couldn't quite identify. Maybe it was because I'd gotten so used to staying home, indulging my hermit-y tendencies that the thought of going out was a kind of terrifying. But I couldn't say no, Alice would be disappointed. Besides, wasn't the whole point of this to get outside my comfort zone?

And then Alice continued. "Great. I think I'll invite Edward too."

Edward.

I'd seen him countless times over the past couple weeks. He came over for dinner all the time, especially once he'd realized that I could actually cook. It had been a little shocking in the beginning to walk into a room and find him there without any warning, but I'd actually begun to look forward to his impromptu visits.

I pushed away my misgivings about the concert; if Edward was going to be there, I would be there too… I just wouldn't examine my motivations too closely.

_Dangerous Bella_, I told myself. _You're walking on very thin ice here._

I couldn't seem to care.

…

Two days later, I pulled my truck into a crowded parking lot in Sequim. I'd driven myself because I'd spent the day running errands and when Alice called to let me know it was time to leave I still wasn't back at the apartment. So instead of making them wait for me, I'd told them to just go ahead, I'd meet them in the parking lot.

It wasn't hard to miss the enormous white tent where the concert was taking place. Apparently, Alice had been right when she said they were famous around here. I found an empty parking space and pulled out my cell phone to let Alice know that I'd arrived. I didn't need to call her though, because as soon as I stepped out of the truck I could see Alice waving at me, flanked on either side by two very tall men. Edward and Jasper.

I walked towards them quickly, trying to quell the butterflies that had exploded in my stomach at the sight of Edward. He was wearing his habitual dark jeans, a flannel shirt rolled up at the elbows, open at the front to reveal a simple gray t-shirt, and a knit cap that hid his bright hair. He looked casual and perfect and I found myself nervously smoothing the new shirt that Alice had insisted I buy. It was a dark red and more low cut than I normally wore. I was glad I hadn't chickened out of wearing it though.

When I reached her, Alice grabbed hold of my hand and guided me through the rush of people towards the stage. It was amazing, but for someone so tiny, she certainly managed to clear the way. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure I wouldn't lose Edward. He grinned at me, and if sensing my worry, put his hand on my shoulder. The tips of his fingers ever so lightly, brushed against the bare skin of my collarbone.

I turned back around quickly so he wouldn't see the blush that flamed across my face at his touch, and kept my eyes safely on the ground.

We ended up just a few rows away from the stage, with me standing between Alice and Edward. There were people crowding behind me, pushing—elbows jabbing at my arms, hands prodding at me from the back—I lost my footing several times but Edward was always there to keep me from falling.

There were a several opening acts, and it felt like hours until the main show. I had been standing still for so long, and there wasn't much room to move around. I was constantly jostled by drunk people who pushed their way through the crowd trying to get closer to the stage, insisting on making space where there was no space. By then, Alice— like everyone else was screaming loudly, jumping up and down like a little whirl of energy.

I couldn't hear the screaming though. I didn't see the bright lights of the stage, or hear the band play. Everything around me faded as my whole consciousness became hyper-aware of the soft sensation on my forearm. Edward and I had been pushed so close together that our arms were brushing against each other. Warm bare skin against warm bare skin. Every movement creating such friction that the hair on the back of our arms stood up.

Every move I made, every time I bent to the music, our arms slid against each other. I could feel Edward's warmth, see him out of the corner of my eye. One small shift to the left or right was all it would take to stop our arms from touching but I didn't move… and neither did he. I let every jostle of the crowd push me closer to him, so close that

I could smell whatever aftershave and soap he used, mixed with his own heady scent.

And my feet and thighs were aching from standing still so long. I wanted to sit down or stretch, but I couldn't. It was such an innocent touch really, but it made me want more. It made me want to press closer until the entire length of my body was against his, or turn so that I could stand on my tiptoes in front of him and kiss him.

_Kiss him_.

The image was so intoxicating, so powerful that I had to catch my breath.

There had been boys that I'd wanted to kiss before. Crushes in middle school, high school, college; I had imagined what it would feel like so many times before… But those had been so weak compared to this new desire.

His lips looked so soft, but not weak. I could imagine the strength behind those kisses; the little butterfly kisses along my neck and collarbones, deeper kisses that would leave me breathless. There was this one spot on the side of his neck, a little freckle just underneath his ear… I wanted to press my lips against it.

I started to feel dizzy and lightheaded, as a familiar tightening sensation began in my chest. But not the good kind, not the kind that I'd begun to associate with Edward and my reaction to him. It was the bad kind. _God, not now! _I cried inwardly, pressing my palm against my heart as though it would stop the pain that slowly burned its way through my heart.

It was slow at the moment, but I knew it would only worsen. I let out a quick, strangled gasp and reached into my bag for the bottle of pills I kept with me all the time. How absolutely typical that I would get an attack here

I didn't want to move, not when it meant losing the lovely heat of Edward's skin. I mourned it, even as I struggled with the cap of the bottle of water I'd stowed in my bag too. I managed to twist it open though, before the first intense burst of pain shot through me.

Edward was watching me. I flinched inwardly. I didn't want him to see me like this, but I knew that he would notice what was happening. I felt his hand on my elbow as he leaned down to speak into my ear.

"Are you okay Bella?" he said, loud enough to make himself heard over the music. "You don't look so good."

I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak. Edward didn't wait for my response however, his arm wrapped around me, pulling me close to him. "Do you need to get out of here?" I managed to nod.

He reached over to tap Alice on the arm. "Bella isn't feeling well," he shouted. "I'm going to take her back to the car." Alice's eyes shot to mine and I managed a weak smile but didn't say anything.

Edward was just as effective at clearing the crowd as Alice had been, and I walked behind him, hunched forward, one arm wrapped protectively around my torso, the other clutching Edward's flannel shirt. The pain wasn't too bad—not nearly as bad as it had been in the past—and I was grateful for that. I would be mortified to be that vulnerable, that exposed in front of Edward. I held the image of me huddling on the ground, unable to move in my mind to propel me forwards.

"Are you okay?" Edward asked again; he'd followed closely behind me as I made a last mad dash to my truck, watching as I sat down on the large front fender.

I nodded breathlessly. "I'll be fine," I managed to say. "I just have to sit for a second."

It was blissful to be off my feet after standing so long. The claustrophobic feeling I'd gotten during the concert was fading fast, and I sucked in the fresh air into my lungs greedily.

Edward leaned against the truck beside me. He was still watching me, his face mostly blank except for the worried expression that never quite left his eyes. After a few minutes, the pain began to lessen. When I could speak, I tried to reassure him again.

"I'm sorry, I just got a little dizzy in there. It happens sometimes…" I trailed awkwardly, knowing my excuse was thin, but I couldn't offer him any better than that.

Almost a week ago, I had made the decision not to tell anyone about my illness—or maybe 'death sentence' was a better description. I'd thought long and hard about it, agonized over it, before I'd decided that I couldn't tell, that it wasn't fair to share this weight. Jasper and Edward and especially Alice didn't need that extra pain.

Maybe it was stupid but I didn't want their pity either. I didn't want them to treat me any differently, to look at me differently, to feel sorry for me. I didn't want to be 'poor Bella Swan, the girl who is going to die.' I just wanted to be myself with nothing else clouding the way people saw me, especially when I was finally starting to figure out who she was.

The medicine was a miracle worker and within ten minutes I felt the iron vise that had been clamped around my heart slowly begin to release. I didn't speak as I waited for the last vestiges of pain to fade. It wasn't awkward though, being quiet with Edward. It felt… pleasant almost. Nothing like the panicky unease that usually overtook me when I was with someone and didn't know what to say. I'd never been good with small talk, but with Edward that didn't seem to matter.

Somehow, Edward seemed able to tell when the pain was finally gone. I could hear his loud exhale beside me. "Do you want to go back inside?" he asked uncertainly.

I shook my head. "You can if you want, I'm going to stay here"

"I'll stay," Edward responded quickly. "That music's not really my taste anyway."

I smiled, feeling tired and rubbery from the attack. I stood and unlocked my truck, grabbing a blanket out from behind the seat. "Want to go sit?" I asked. Edward said nothing, but followed me and watched as I re-folded the blanket and spread it across the truck's bed to make a sort of pillow then lay down with my head on top of it.

The metal truck was cool but pleasantly so against my sticky skin. It was a beautiful night, warm without being too warm or humid and there was a slight breeze in the air.

After a few seconds, Edward hoisted himself into the truck, but he didn't lie down beside me. Instead, he sat with his back against the side, perpendicular to my body. I could feel his foot lightly touching my calf.

I liked that. Probably too much I realized, but there was nothing I could do about that.

To distract myself from Edward's proximity, I closed my eyes tightly and listened to the music flooding out from the tent. He'd looked so good, big and warm and comfortable. I wanted to lean against him, to feel his bare skin again like I had during the concert.

It was funny, but the more time I spent with him, the better he looked to me. The god that I'd created in my head from those first early encounters was swiftly being kicked to the curb as flesh-and-blood Edward took his place.

I breathed deeply, stretching out in the back of the truck. With my blanket-pillow it was surprisingly comfortable. Finally, I opened my eyes.

"I wish I could see the stars here," I sighed. The bright lights in the parking lot had obscured them with an awful milky orange haze. "I feel like I never see them enough."

"Where I live," Edward began hesitantly, his voice soft, "on the lake, on a clear night, I feel like I could almost reach up and touch them sometimes. I remember the first time I saw them after I moved here… it was amazing." I turned towards him; it was so rare for Edward to talk about himself like this, my curiosity was immediately piqued.

"Sometimes," he continued. "If I can't sleep at night, I'll take my kayak out to the middle of the lake and just look up at the sky. It makes you feel like you're the only person in the world."

I had a brief flash of Edward and me there, of a sky that seemed to go on forever and ever, of the bright stars reflected in the smooth glassy surface of the water. "That sounds… kind of perfect," I whispered.

"It is," he said.

Alice had told me once that Edward's cabin was out in the middle of nowhere, with no near neighbors. I'd begun to imagine it—not because I wanted to be a stalker or anything—but because it sounded so wonderful. A place to be entirely on your own, without anyone watching you. It sounded like heaven.

Edward moved then, to lie down beside me. I tried to keep my breathing even, though inwardly I was freaking out. It felt so intimate, lying beside him like this. Just as intimate as feeling his skin moving against mine.

Very slowly, he reached out and took my hand. And if my heart had been sputtering erratically before, it had all but stopped now. I froze as his hand moved upwards to gently to rub my wrist, unsure why he was doing it. But then, I realized that it was the wrist that Phil had tugged when he had tried to make me leave Alice's. Edward must have remembered how red and sore my skin had been afterwards.

Those faint red marks had faded almost immediately, and there was no longer any trace of what had happened now. Still, it would much longer for me to forgive. I hadn't talked to anyone in my family since that night, except for a couple short phone calls to Charlie to check up. I wasn't angry, more disappointed that my mother would treat me like that. I knew I'd eventually have to speak to Renee again, but it wouldn't be for a very, very long time I decided.

"Any more visits from your family?" Edward asked quietly, breaking through the silence.

I shook my head. "I think they'll leave me alone now that they know how serious I am about staying." I shook my head. "I didn't know it would be so hard for them to see me happy, to see me make my own choices."

"Why did you stay with them so long then?"

"Because it was easy," I laughed, trying not to sound too bitter. Then my voice softened. "Because they needed me. My dad Charlie, he doesn't have anyone but me. You know… the longer you stay, the harder it is to leave. It's a vicious cycle."

I looked across at Edward to find his bright green eyes fixed, unwaveringly on me. "I understand."

And I could tell that he did. And even though I normally hated talking about myself, hated to be the center of attention, when I saw that look in Edward's eyes—that look that said _I am interested in you_—I couldn't stop the words that tumbled from my lips.

So I told him everything. About going to Seattle for college and hating it there, about how I felt so alone and lost in such a big place. I told him about my mother and Phil, about Charlie. About how I never felt good enough for them. It came so easily with Edward, not even Alice had heard the whole story.

But for some reason I _wanted _to tell him. Wanted him to understand me, to really know me, not just the superficial face I presented to the rest of the world. Even if I never knew anything about Edward's past—even if he remained a stranger to me, I wanted him to see me.

But as I finished speaking, part of me felt like I was leaving out the most important part, the trigger that had finally caused me to leave it all behind. And it felt almost like I was lying to him. If I hadn't been told I was going to die, I never would have had the guts to move in with Alice, even if she had asked me. There was no way I could have justified leaving my job at the library, because what happened in two months after Alice's wedding? I would have ended up right back home, except this time with no employment.

But now, that thought didn't terrify me. The future didn't terrify me.

Edward and I were lying so close that I could feel his heat all along the right side of my body. I wanted to inch closer but I was afraid of ruining this perfect moment.

I began to hum, just softly to myself. A gentle quiet melody that fit this moment. And of course it was by Foster—no other music could ever be such a perfect soundtrack to my life.

I forgot to be shy.

I forgot to be self-conscious.

I forgot to care what other people thought of me.

For the first time I just let myself _feel. _I savored the sensation of Edward so close beside me, of the cool breeze running softly across my face, so much like a caress.

_Everything feels so different now, _I sang softly. _Like nothing is ever gonna be the same/_

_Don't know where this is gonna go/ Don't know who I'm gonna be when it ends/ All I know is that I want to hold on, stay strong for you as long as I can…_

Beside me, Edward stiffened. He sat up suddenly and looked down at me, a shocked look on his face. "What are you singing?"

My forehead creased in surprise: was my singing really that bad? Not that I thought I had a great voice or anything, but my 5th grade music teacher had told me I could hold a tune at least… "Just a song I really like. It's by Foster—have you ever heard of him?"

Edward looked down at me, his face still etched with confusion. "Foster? Yeah, I have. I didn't think anyone would know about him all the way up here…" he stumbled.

I shrugged. "I have a friend who works as a music reviewer; she sends me things she'll think I'll like." I smiled. "This isn't the total boonies you know; we're not totally ignorant of the outside world." I couldn't help but tease him a little.

"I'm starting to realize that."

I smiled up at him. "Do you know the song?"

He nodded, still frowning. "You really like that band?" he asked, his tone incredulous.

"You don't?" He shook his head and I stared up at him, amazed. "What's wrong with _you_?"

He laughed at that— a real laugh, not just his habitual grin or smirk, and my stomach tightened a little at the sight. Edward didn't smile a lot, not a real smile like that anyway.

Our eyes met and I felt a blush start to spread across my face. Our gazes held for a few long minutes until a loud voice calling my name broke through the quiet.

"Bella?" I heard Alice calling for me across the parking lot. I tore my eyes away from Edward, sitting up quickly like she'd interrupted us doing something far more intimate than just staring. And then I gasped for an entirely different reason as I stared down at my side.

I'd just realized that Edward was still holding my hand, had_ been_ holding my hand for hours… and he hadn't let go of it. I forgot Alice and raised my gaze from our entwined hands up to Edward's face. He was smiling again.

* * *

**Foster is a made up band, and so are the lyrics. Poetry isn't my thing, so I aplogize :-D**

**I'd like to ask everyone who is enjoying this to go back and review the first couple chapters as well as this one. There's a good number of you who have this story on their favs/ alerts and I'd love to hear from you! Normally, I hate being pushy and begging but it kind of sucks when so many of you are reading this and not reviewing. Please let me know what you think.**

**That's right - go ahead and click on the little green button! I might even give out a teaser for the next chapter if you do...**

**:-) Rosybud**


	7. Chapter 7: Comfort Zone

**Disclaimer: Bella and Edward aren't mine. Makes me sad :-(**

**A/N: LoveBugged created a thread for this story on the Twilighted forums! Head over there if you want to talk about this story - when I figure out how to do so and if people are interested, I might post teasers and answer questions there. Also, the Fan Fiction Rebels wrote an awesome recommendation for this story on their site. It was incredibly sweet—thank you!**

**This chapter kicked my ass. Still, I hope you like it!  
**

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Chapter Seven: Comfort Zone

_And so it goes…_

_The words on the page start to swim  
As light catches your face and you're smiling  
This must be what all the fuss is about_

_-_Light Catches Your Face, BellX1

~July~

"Are you really sure you want to do this?" Alice asked anxiously. It was probably the twentieth time she'd done so in the last half hour and it was starting to make me doubt myself. "I mean this is Mike we're talking about," she continued. "_Mike Newton_. Don't you remember what he was like in high school?"

I did remember, but I tried to push down the anxiety that rose through my chest. "It's just a party," I said trying to reassure myself as well as Alice. "It's not like we're going on a date or anything."

Alice made a face that clearly said _thank God, _but I knew she wasn't going to let it go that easily. "It's still a party—at his parent's house—while they're not even there! It's like he never grew up!"

I inwardly agreed but I tried to hold back my smile, not wanting to give Alice the satisfaction of knowing she was right. When I'd run into Mike earlier I had been surprised when he'd asked me over to his house. That hadn't stopped me from saying yes right away though— and not because I was thrilled to see him again after six years or anything, but because agreeing to go to a party was something the old Bella Swan would never have done, not in a million years.

And I was trying to be different now.

"I know it's probably stupid Alice," I tried to explain, "but I've never really gone to a party before. I just want to experience it once so I know what I've missed. Besides, Mike's not so bad."

"You haven't missed very much," she sniffed, but I noticed that her face softened a little. Alice would probably never understand why I wanted to go so badly. To her it was just a cheesy party, with loud music and drinking and Mike Newton, but to me it represented the unknown.

I'd never gotten the courage to go to any parties in college; somehow I'd gotten it in my head that I was _better_ than that. The idea of turning into my freshman year roommate, who went out every Thursday and came back on Sunday morning looking like shit terrified me. I hadn't wanted to fall into that trap. Besides, even if I had wanted to go, I never had anyone to go with.

Well, I was done with being shy. I was done with sitting back and letting the world go on around me and never participating in it. Living with Alice was great—amazing really—but it wouldn't last forever. In two months Alice would be married and moved to Texas. I was determined not end up right back where I'd started when that happened.

I was going to experience as much as I could good, bad or otherwise. Because really, what was the worst thing that could happen?

Well, probably a lot, but I was trying not to think about that.

"Well, at least you look good," Alice commented, pulling me away from my thoughts. I glanced at my reflection in the full-length mirror, feeling the color drain out of my face. Alice had insisted that I wear tight dark jeans that hugged my still very skinny legs more closely than I was comfortable with. In addition, she'd put me in some kind of sparkly tank top that didn't leave much of my chest to the imagination. I felt very over-exposed, not that I was prudish or anything, but after being covered up for so long it was a little shocking to see so much of my skin showing.

At least Alice had given me a cute jacket with ¾ length sleeves to wear over it; I was just praying that it never got warm enough in Mike's house to force me out of it.

I wished that she could go with me, but I knew that Alice had no desire to see some of our old Fork's High School classmates, and I wasn't going to ask her to do anything she hated. I didn't really want to see some of those people either but I at least was prepared for it since I'd run into a lot of them around town over the years.

But maybe someone else would be there, someone I didn't know. Someone I could laugh with, who'd make up for the inevitable shittiness. That was the most I could hope for.

"Just be careful, please," Alice asked, handing me a pretty black purse to put my cell phone, wallet and chapstick into. I took it, swallowing nervously; I wished that I had a better idea of what to expect tonight.

"Hey, don't worry about me Alice," I tried to joke. "My father is the police chief—no one's going to try anything."

She laughed like I'd wanted her to, her tension easing. "Well have fun. At least seeing Mike Newton shit-faced ought to be entertaining. Call me if… call me if anything happens." Alice had an odd look on her face and I could tell that she was more anxious for me than she was letting on.

_Great Bella,_ I thought to myself, _your best friend doesn't even think you can handle a simple house party. How pathetic can you get?_ I pushed away the depressing thought and gave Alice a quick hug goodbye.

It was strange to drive back to Forks. I had only been away a couple weeks but it felt so much longer— the longest I'd been away since I'd graduated from college. Somehow, I expected things to have changed slightly even though I knew it was stupid. I wanted it to look smaller or dirtier or less familiar, anything to reflect the inner change that had taken place within me. But Forks looked exactly the same as always. Maybe I hadn't changed as much as I had thought.

Mike's house wasn't very far from Charlie's; it was one of the bigger ones in town but still modest and nice looking. I hadn't been there since his 3rd grade birthday party when he'd invited our entire class but it was familiar from all the times I'd driven past it. All the lights in his house were on, and I could see people milling in the backyard.

After I parked the truck, I took a deep breath, trying to give myself one last push of determination, even though I was dangerously close to having a panic attack. "Do one thing every day that scares you," Eleanor Roosevelt had said. Well, this scared me. Actually, this _terrified _me, but before I could talk myself into turning around, I opened the door and stepped outside.

_Deep breath Bella, it's too late to go back now._

Mike had been pretty popular in high school, and it was pretty evident from the amount of people standing around in his living room that he'd stayed in touch with a lot of them. No one looked at me as I opened the front door and I was grateful for that. I could do this I thought; I could be a kind ghost, hovering around the edges, observing. It was closer than I'd ever been to this kind of thing before. That was enough.

I picked up a full red plastic cup just so that I could have something in my hands. Cautiously, I took a sip and my nose wrinkled at the bitter taste. _Cheap beer_. I forced myself to swallow it, even though I'd never liked the taste. Of any beer really. But I continued to hold the cup.

I found a deserted corner to stand where I'd have a good view of everything and where I'd be out of the way from the few brave-drunk people dancing in the middle of the room. I wasn't there long before I heard a loud voice calling my name from across the room.

"Bella! There you are!" It was Mike, making his way across the room to me. He looked almost the same as he had in high school: blond, blue-eyed and baby faced. He also looked like he was on his fourth or fifth drink judging by the redness of his face. I jumped a little, making my beer slosh noisily in its cup.

"Hi Mike…" I said when he came to stand next to me. I was a little surprised by how relieved I felt to see a familiar face, despite the way he slung his arm around my shoulders in a sloppy half-hug.

"Is Jess here?" I looked around the rapidly filling room, but didn't see her. Jessica Stanley had been in our grade and she and Mike had had an on and off relationship all through high school. According to her mother who came into the library now and then (mostly to brag about her daughter to a captive audience,) Jessica and Mike were firmly back _on _these days.

"Nah," he answered, taking a huge gulp of his beer. "She and her mom are going to some spa thing tomorrow. She has to be up early." He took another drink. "Hey, it's pretty loud in here. Want to go catch up in the kitchen?"

I nodded, wanting nothing more than to get out of the crowded room. It was easier to see how squinty Mike's eyes were under the bright kitchen lights, but he looked relaxed and happy. I had a feeling that Alice was right about it being fun to see him 'shit faced.'

In a slurred voice, he told me how he was living in Olympia now, running the second sporting goods store his parents had opened there a couple years ago. Jessica was living with him, working as a secretary. When he asked me what I was up to it was the first time in years that I wasn't a little embarrassed about my answer.

While we talked, Mike hauled himself up to sit on the island and I leaned across from him. We chatted easily for a while; occasionally someone would come up and say hi as they passed through, but mostly we were left alone. Mike made himself more fancy, unrecognizable drinks, his voice becoming more and more slurred with each one.

I didn't consider leaving him though. Mike was harmless and friendly and we'd always gotten along, even when I'd been a shy wallflower in school. For all the teasing Alice and I had done, I genuinely liked him.

But as he talked, I found my mind wandering to something else—to _someone_ else. It was starting to scare me how I couldn't go a couple hours without thinking about Edward anymore. I kept remembering how warm and secure his hand had felt in my mine, how I'd felt tingly all over when he'd looked at me with those impossibly bright green eyes. I'd seen him almost every day since the concert but nothing had really changed between us. He still complimented my cooking, teased me, grinned at me.

He still looked at me. All the time, whenever he was around, I could feel him looking at me. And I'd never realized before how impossible it is not to be completely aware of someone when they stare like that, how impossible it is not to stare back.

I sighed imperceptibly and turned back to Mike. He'd moved on to reminiscing about high school, and how great it had been. I didn't respond though, because while it hadn't been incredibly awful or anything, I'd always agreed with those who said that high school was only meant to be endured.

Ten minutes later Mike was pretty much trashed into incoherency and I was sneaking a look at the microwave clock, wondering if it would be rude to leave him, when he rolled onto his back and started laughing. "You know," he began, his voice garbled. "I always wanted to ask you out… Your hair, it always smelled so good… like strawberries. I almost did right before prom, but Jess…" he rolled his eyes. "And man, your father scared the shit out of me! I was afraid he'd shoot me if I tried anything."

Mike closed his, smiling stupidly to himself. I stared down at him and almost laughed, it was so ridiculous. I wondered what I would have done with the knowledge that Mike Newton had liked the smell of my hair when I was seventeen. I probably would have been mortified. Now, I just found the whole thing amusing and ironic. I couldn't believe he'd been afraid of Charlie though, it made me wonder what my father had done to scare him—and who knew who else— so badly.

Mike passed out after his confession, and I was grateful for that. I could hear loud music and laughter going strong in the other rooms, but it was past midnight now and I was very ready to leave.

"Bye Mike," I said to his unconscious form. "Thanks for inviting me. I had a… nice time." It was half-true at least; the evening hadn't been nearly as bad as I'd been afraid of. I set down my neglected beer and headed for the back door, planning to bypass the living room entirely. I made it as far as to put a hand on the door handle before someone caught my arm and pulled me back.

"Hey, don't I know you…?" an unfamiliar voiced drawled behind me. I whirled around, but I'd never seen the man standing beside me before. He was about my height, and very ordinary looking.

"No, sorry," I said uncertainly, wishing that he would let go of my arm. "I don't think I've ever met you."

He let go of me but leaned against the door, blocking my exit. I glanced over at Mike but he was still passed out on the counter. The steady stream of people who'd been coming into the kitchen all night had seemed stop too, leaving this stranger and me completely alone. I folded my arms tightly across my chest.

"I'm James," he introduced himself, smiling. I didn't say anything, hoping he would take the hint and leave me alone. There was just something wrong about him, about the way he looked at me, the way he spoke; his eyes were too sharp. "It was pretty greedy of Newton to keep you holed up in here all night; he wasn't the only one who wanted to… get to know you," he murmured, leaning towards me.

I backed away, hating his tone, but James followed me. "Not enough pretty girls here for that…"

"I'm going home," I said quickly. God, my voice sounded so shaky and frightened, even to me. I turned quickly on my heel, wanting to get into the living room—I could find someone in there to stay with until James was gone.

But I didn't have to go any further. The second I turned, I saw a figure in the crowded living room, so tall that his head was above everyone else's. It was Edward, his eyes searching intently. Our gazes caught and I couldn't stop the tiny smile that touched my lips.

Because when I saw him, everything else faded. James and his sour smelling breath, the bright kitchen, the sound of Mike's snoring. It was all gone. In its place was Edward and the overwhelming feeling that everything was all right now.

He crossed the last couple feet into the kitchen, roughly pushing people aside, and grabbed my hand. He didn't even stop to look at James as he pulled me out of the room. I clutched his hand tightly, just a step behind him as he led me out of the crowded house. We didn't head towards my truck, still parked on the side of the street, but to his sleek black motorcycle. Wordlessly, he held out the helmet, slid onto the bike and within seconds it came to life with a sleek growl. I climbed up behind him, and wrapped my arms tightly around his waist.

And it was heavenly. Adrenaline still coursed through me from my encounter with James, and the nearness of Edward made every inch of my body feel alive and electrified. I closed my eyes, savoring the new sensations. I felt safe, but more important than that, for the first time in hours I actually felt happy.

We were just leaving the town limits when I heard Edward mutter "Fuck" to himself. "I forgot to get gas."

Luckily, there was a gas station only a couple miles ahead of us, and it was one of the few in the area that stayed open so late. Edward maneuvered us neatly in front of the pump, and turned the bike off. He looked over his shoulder and I could tell that he was upset.

"What were you doing there Bella?" he asked roughly. "With _James_ of all people?"

I blinked, startled by the anger in his voice. Haltingly, I told him that I knew Mike from high school, and how we'd spent the night in the kitchen until he'd passed out. "James cornered me just as I was leaving; I was trying to get away from him when you showed up." I paused, then whispered, "Why_ did_ you show up?"

"Alice had a bad feeling," he answered shortly. I raised my eyebrows questioningly and he seemed to soften a little. "I was with her earlier tonight but she was all distracted. When I asked her why she said that you'd gone to some party in Forks and she was worried about you. She's been anxious all evening."

"And so you came to make sure I was okay?" There weren't words to describe what that idea did to me.

Edward shook his head noncommittally. "I learned pretty quickly to take Alice's 'feelings' seriously…. And now I'm glad I came— I can't believe—James of all people—"

"I told you, _he's_ the one who came up to _me_. I don't like him either! I was trying to get rid of him as soon as he showed up" I shivered a little, wondering what he'd done to make Edward hate him so much. "Is he really so bad?"

Edward shrugged, not saying anything for a few minutes as he stood, inserted a credit card and punched in his pin number. "I've seen him around," he finally answered. "He's just not a good guy Bella."

"Well, you don't have to convince me," I said sincerely. "I never want to see him again."

"Good."

I watched him silently, still perched on the back of the bike as he pumped gas. As always I didn't have to hear him talk, it was enough just to watch him move, all sinuous and graceful. I knew I was staring but I couldn't help myself, but even at the same time, I knew it would never be enough.

When he was done, he threw his leg back over the motorcycle but didn't turn the key right away. Instead, he twisted around to look at me, reaching forward to lightly flick the helmet I was still wearing with his fingers. It made a loud, dull thudding sound, but did little to bring me back from my daydreams.

He grinned at me. "Enjoy your first bike ride Bella?"

"How do you know it was my first?" I asked, then laughed because of course he knew. I was starting to wonder if there was anything he didn't know about me. "It was fabulous." My laugh faded and my voice softened. "Thank you Edward, thank you for being there for me tonight. I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't come."

"My pleasure," he said, quickly turning around, but before he could nudge the kickstand up, a familiar bright red convertible pulled up to the gas pump beside us. My grip on Edward's shoulders tightened reflexively.

I had forgotten that Rosalie was still in Forks, that she would stay for the rest of the summer until her residency in California began in September. My heart fell a little… who had ever looked at boring old me when Rosalie was around? Who _would?_

When Rosalie saw us, her eyes widened in surprise—I was probably the last person she expected to find on the back of some guy's motorcycle at one in the morning— but she disguised it well. "Hello Bella," her eyes flickered towards Edward curiously as if to say _who's your friend?_

"Hey Rosalie," I said quietly, feeling deflated. "This is my… this is Edward, Edward this is my step-sister Rosalie."

His lips curled a little and he nodded lazily. "Nice to meet you." I saw the look on Rosalie's face and I knew that she recognized the name. I shuddered a little, thinking about all awful rumors Renee had doubtlessly told her. Still, she was intrigued.

I took a deep breath and looked over at Edward, dreading but knowing what I would see as he watched my stepsister.

I had seen the way that men reacted to Rosalie. Every single one—young, old, married, unmarried— they all did the same thing the first time they saw her. Their jaws dropped, their skin flushed, their eyes bulged as they stuttered and stumbled, each praying that by some miracle she would be interested, though they knew deep down that they didn't have a hope in hell.

I'd heard their cheesy pick-up lines. I'd watched the ones who would never get the courage to talk stare and stare and stare—with such expressions in their eyes! Like she was water in the desert, like she was an angel.

Even Emmett looked at her that way and he was one of the most confident, sure guys I'd ever met. Even though she had chosen him.

But Edward wasn't staring. He was just looking at her, a slight amused expression on his face. Like he could see straight through her.

I was dumbfounded. No man had ever _just _looked at her before. I forced my stunned brain to work, trying to form a coherent sentence.

"How are you Rose?" I finally managed to choke out. At my voice, Rosalie straightened to her full height, tossing her long golden hair behind her. The air was suddenly filled with the spicy scent of her perfume.

"I'm good," she absently responded. Then she held out her hand to Edward. "It's very nice to meet you too," she purred, flashing a heart-stopping smile. I recognized the tone of her voice at once; she wanted something and I knew exactly what it was: a reaction. She wanted him to react to her the way all men did; she wanted to see the power she had over him.

Because having Emmett wasn't enough. Because having every other man in the world wouldn't mean anything if she didn't get Edward too. Because she didn't know any other way. She pulled out all the stops, she worked harder than she probably ever had since puberty, but Edward stayed coolly disinterested. I saw Rosalie's eyes narrow with anger. She wasn't used to being rejected.

I watched their interaction fascinated. Edward was doing something I'd never seen a man do before.

Was he gay? No, I couldn't believe that… even gay men looked at Rosalie appreciatively. He was simply not… interested. Rosalie seemed to realize this the same second I did, and I could see her face fall slightly. It must have been confusing for her, but I couldn't find it in me to care.

My fingers gripped the edge of Edward's leather jacket possessively, disbelievingly. _She didn't get to have him… she didn't get him too._

With a disappointed look on her face, Rosalie turned back towards me for the first time since saying hello. She set her shoulders determinately and sighed. "When are you coming home Isabella? Your mom's really worried about you, you know."

I wondered if Rosalie really thought it would work—that _she_ would be the one to break me down. "I'll call Renee when I'm ready.

Rosalie's brows knit in annoyance. "It wouldn't kill you to come home for a visit."

I shrugged. "Tell Renee that if she's really so concerned she can talk to Charlie." It was a low blow but I knew Rosalie would never repeat it. Besides, I knew my mother would never do that; Charlie might as well have been dead to her.

I could tell that Edward was getting impatient so I moved my arms down around his ribs and squeezed gently letting him know that I was ready to go. Edward took the hint and within seconds, the bike was purring again. "Bye Rosalie!" I called over my shoulder as Edward sped out of the gas station.

I hung onto Edward so tightly that I could feel the definition of his stomach muscles underneath the jacket he wore. It was exhilarating to drive so fast, to feel the wind on my bare neck and arms. It was cold too, and I clutched Edward tighter to me, trying to absorb his heat.

Far too quickly, we were pulling up in front of Alice's apartment. Edward climbed off the bike first and held my hand carefully, to keep me from tripping. The street was silent, and for the first time in weeks a bright moon shone down on us. I was fascinated by the color of Edward's hair in the light, but I didn't let myself stare; I had been doing far too much of it tonight as it was.

Edward walked me up the stairs to Alice's door, and waited awkwardly as I unlocked it, running his hands through his already windswept hair. "Well, I'm off, I'll see you tomorrow Bella."

"You're leaving?"

He smiled at the tone of my voice. "It's very late Bella, and I have a long drive back."

"Then stay—please," I implored. "Alice won't mind if you crash on the couch for the night, she'll probably be thrilled. I'll even make you breakfast in the morning."

Edward hesitated for a second, before giving in with a shrug. "Can't resist that." I beamed at him.

Alice had left the kitchen light on for me, and it was enough to see by so I didn't bother turning on any of the others. "I'm surprised Alice didn't wait up to ambush you," Edward said, looking around at the empty apartment; I guessed that he'd never been here when it was so quiet.

I smiled and shrugged out of the inadequate jacket Alice had dressed me in. "She couldn't stay up past one o'clock if her life depended on it. Especially not with how hard she's been working lately. She'll pounce on me at the crack of dawn tomorrow." I frowned at him. "I hope she leaves you alone."

I went and got blankets and pillows from Alice's linen closet and busied myself with spreading them out on the extra long couch for Edward. I knew that he was watching me and that fact filled me with a strange nervous energy. I started stuffing a pillow into its case, needing a distraction.

All I'd had to drink was that sip of beer hours and hours ago, but I felt light headed, almost buzzed. Whether it was leftover adrenaline, or excitement at being alone with him, or the simple knowledge that Edward didn't give a damn about Rosalie, but I felt fearless. Like I could do anything.

And there was only one thing I wanted. I'd wanted it from the first second I saw Edward, standing on the sidewalk with that lone raindrop sliding down his cheek.

I wanted to kiss him.

It was the imagining part I was good at though, the wanting part. I never thought I would have the courage to take it further than that… but then, there were so many things I never thought I'd be able to do. Stand up to Renee, leave Charlie, hold Edward's hand, go to a party… If I could do all that then why should a kiss be any different?

But what if he didn't like it? What if he didn't think of me that way? What if it ended up being the biggest mistake of my life—

What_ life_?

I'd had no life until I'd pushed away my fear and simply tried. It was that though that decided me and before I could chicken out, I walked towards Edward, still holding the pillow in my shaking hands. He was just looking at me, as mysterious and silent and inscrutable as ever, but I could have sworn he knew what I was thinking. His eyes were burning so bright that I could see the green flame of them in the dark room.

I pushed away every insecurity I had, I forbid myself from thinking at all—and stood up on my tiptoes and pressed my lips to his.

And it was… strange and awkward because it was my first kiss. All soft and hesitant but that didn't stop the warmth in my chest from igniting, burning, electrifying me. I pulled away sharply, needing to see if he felt it too or if it was just me. And when I looked into his eyes there was nothing in them that told me he didn't want this. So I leaned forward again and this time the kiss was harder, more desperate and twice as good. Edward's lips were warm against my own, his hands slipped into my hair and I could feel the distinct pressure of each fingertip on my skin.

At last, breathless, I pulled away again. There was a silly, stupid smile on my face but I didn't care. And Edward was just looking at me, my favorite, mysterious crooked smile on his lips too.

I took a step backwards, trying to steady myself. Trying not to give him any idea what he had just done to me, how much he had shattered me. "Thank you," I whispered. And before Edward could speak, I turned away and quickly went to my room, still shivering slightly.

Quietly, I closed my bedroom door and leaned up against it, my heart beating crazily. My first kiss. I couldn't believe that it had really happened, and that it had been with Edward Masen of all people… my lips tingled as I remembered how it had felt to press my lips to his.

And I knew— I just _knew—_ that I loved him.

For the first time in my life, I loved someone.

It was bizarre. I wanted to smile and sing and yell out loud. I wanted to wake up Alice and tell her… And at the same time I wanted to keep it safe and precious inside me as the most important thing in my life.

I had tried not to feel it— tried to protect myself from it, even though a part of me knew it was useless. There was no way I could be around Edward Masen and not fall in love with him. It was like putting bread in front of a starving person and asking them not to eat it. Cruel, impossible and ultimately doomed to failure.

I lay down on the bed and put my hand over my chest, feeling my heart's steady, comforting thud. I knew I wouldn't get any sleep tonight

It was going to break my heart, this first love of mine… but I would let it. I wouldn't try to ignore it or push it away or pretend like it wasn't happening. There would be no happily ever after for me, and part of me hated that. Why did I finally find Edward when I had no time left? It wasn't fair… but it wasn't fair to deny myself either. I had to live in the present too.

And right now I loved him. Right now I didn't belong to myself anymore. Right now I belonged to _him. _It didn't make sense, it wasn't logical or expected or even sane… it just was.

And now that I knew it, there was no going back.

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**Poor Bella, one of my readers called her stunted and inexperienced. She definitely is.**

**Let me know what you think!**


	8. Chapter 8: Aftermath

**Disclaimer: As usual, Edward and Bella aren't mine...**

**Thanks for reviewing! You guys are the best!**

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Chapter 8: The Morning After

_They say that home is where the heart is  
I guess I haven't found my home  
And we keep driving round in circles  
Afraid to call this place our own _

_And are we there yet? _

_They say there's linings made of silver  
Folded inside each raining cloud  
Well, we need someone to deliver  
Our silver lining now_

_-Are We There Yet, Ingrid Michaelson_

~July~

Pale light filtered through my windows. I groaned and yanked the covers up over my head; I felt like I had been run over by a truck.

I'd lain awake most of the night, unable to quiet my racing mind as I replayed over and over again everything that had happened hours before—Mike's party, James, riding a motorcycle for the first time… Mostly though, I remembered kissing Edward. I remembered his lips, the feel of his fingers tangling in my hair, his warm breath on my skin. The overwhelming certainty that I loved him.

I'd had to stop myself a hundred times from sneaking out of bed to go peek at him, asleep on Alice's couch. I wanted to know what he looked like when he was sleeping, if his pale skin flushed, if his lips opened slightly, if he snored, if he lay on his back or his side or his stomach. My curiosity was endless. But more than that, I wanted to see him vulnerable and relaxed; it seemed to me that he was very good at hiding, at putting on a tough stony mask every day and never letting anyone past it. Asleep, it would just be Edward, stripped of his defenses.

I told myself that if I tip-toed he wouldn't hear me, if I got caught I could pretend I was getting water or a book or—

But I knew couldn't. And it been hard, so hard to stay in my room knowing Edward was just outside, but thank God I'd managed to hold myself together. In the bright morning light I knew how stupid those plans had been; I could just imagine the look on his face if he'd caught me spying on him.

Part of me wished that I had gotten trashed at Mike's party, at least then I'd have the perfect excuse for everything I'd done or wanted to do. At the very least, I could have pretended not to remember the way I'd practically attacked Edward. I rubbed my hand against my face and wondered if it was really attacking someone if he kissed you back.

Probably.

A sudden image of Edward's face right after that overwhelming kiss flashed in my mind: dazed, a little confused, smiling lazily, mysteriously to himself. He hadn't looked at all upset that I'd done it, that was something at least. But still, how the hell was I going to face him? What I was going to _say _to him?

_Sorry Edward, I was just experimenting. I've never kissed a guy before and I figured I should get a move on; those twelve months are ticking down pretty fast you know._

Ha. The funny thing was, I knew Edward probably wouldn't blink an eye at that explanation— it was the truth that would send him running out the door without a backwards glance.

_I kissed you because I love you. And I know I only have less than a year but I want to spend it with you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you._

I sighed. They say that things look different in the morning, but the realization of my feelings for Edward weren't any less forceful or any less true in the daylight. I still loved him. Achingly. Completely. Now, it was the consequences of letting my guard down this way that seemed so much more frightening. There was no way I could have any kind of real relationship with this man, the simple normal kind where we went out on dates and told each other all our secrets and had forever to figure each other out. Where we'd introduce each other to our parents and friends and fall for each other in a natural, normal time frame.

_That _was what I'd always envisioned when I'd imagined falling in love for the first time. Instead, there was Edward— and I didn't know where he came from or how he employed himself, I didn't know his favorite color or his parents' names or his birthday. I knew he was sweet, I knew that his smile was now the most beautiful thing in the world to me and I'd do anything to keep him smiling. I knew that I'd continue to disregard every awful thing I'd ever heard about him and trust my own gut instinct.

I didn't know what kind of future I could hope for. Would it be better to pretend that nothing had happened between Edward and me, and content myself with being his friend? Should I tell him everything and let him decide how much or how little he wanted? Was it even fair to burden him with the truth when nothing could come of it?

I rolled onto my back and groaned softly. None of this was even worth obsessing over when I still had no clue how Edward really felt about me. I was pretty sure he liked me, a little bit at least. Maybe he was even attracted to me if that look in his eyes right after I kissed him had been any sort of indication. But that didn't mean he wanted to act on those feelings, or that he wanted something serious between us.

I was so confused and exhausted that I simply couldn't think anymore. The way Edward acted around me today would have to be my starting point. If he ignored the kiss, I would think twice about confessing anything to him. If he showed any interest… well, that was another situation altogether.

I closed my eyes and let myself savor the memory of our kiss as I had been doing during most of the night's waking moments; at least I had that much from him. One kiss. Surely after a lifetime of nothing, it would be enough to last me the next ten months.

But maybe we could hold hands sometimes… or he could hug me—chastely of course. Edward had felt so good in my arms, solid and real and warm and wonderful. Maybe he could twist his fingers into the hair at the base of my neck and tug on it gently as he had done the night before. Friends did that, right? Before I could stop myself I began to wonder what his hands would feel like on other places of my body, around my waist, down the sides of my arms and.... My cheeks flamed and I turned my head, mashing my face into my pillow, trying to bring myself back down to reality.

Behind me, I heard the door fling open and seconds later something bounced down beside me on the bed. It was Alice, making sure I was really okay after last night's drama. I pulled my face out of my pillow and looked up to see her grinning from ear to ear.

"You're alive!" she cried. "Not that I was really worried or anything— at least not after Edward went after you. I knew you'd be okay with him."

"Another one of your feelings?" I croaked, my voice still heavy with sleep. She nodded happily.

"Plus, I knew Edward would never let anything bad happen to you."

My eyebrows rose in surprise but I didn't question the statement, or her certainty that it was true. Instead, I figured it was probably a good time to tell her that there was a man sleeping on her couch. "I told Edward that you wouldn't mind if he spent the night here," I explained. "We got back really late."

"I know. I saw him when I went to turn on the coffee machine a couple minutes ago."

"You didn't wake him up did you?" I asked anxiously.

She rolled her eyes. "Please. He was totally out of it. Probably wiped out from all of last night's excitement."

I couldn't help it, my cheeks flamed in embarrassment; there was no way that Alice could possibly know what had happened between Edward and me, but there was something in her voice that made me unsure. I was seriously starting to wonder if she was really capable of seeing the future_;_ I hoped not. I still didn't know what Alice would think about my infatuation with Edward. She _might _tell me to go for it, but it was just as likely that she'd warn me that Edward was the last guy I should be interested in.

It was obvious to me that she loved him. He was one of her best friends and she trusted him to be good to her and her friends. I just wasn't sure if she'd think he was right for me. She probably already knew—I had a sneaking feeling that anyone with eyes could see my feelings—but I wasn't going to introduce the topic. I couldn't take the risk.

"Well thank you for asking him to come get me last night Alice; your intuition saved the day as usual."

She shrugged. "Don't give me all the credit; I was just feeling a little uneasy. It was Edward who decided to go haring after you when I told him I had a bad feeling about Newton's party. He practically demanded directions to Mike's house and then he was gone before I could say another word."

"Really?"

She smiled mysteriously and nodded. "So how was the party? You weren't upset that Edward crashed it, were you?"

So I explained about James and how he'd cornered me in the kitchen, and how Edward had gotten me out of there. And then, because I couldn't help myself, I told her about running into Rosalie and how Edward had shown no signs of being interested in her. Alice had known her in high school and seen all of the guys salivate over her, so she would understand how unprecedented Edward's reaction to her was. But Alice didn't seem all that shocked.

"Edward never reacts how I think he will," she said, shrugging. "It's one of his refreshing quirks."

"But I've never seen a man ignore her like that before." _And pay attention to me instead,_ I wanted to add but didn't. "It was so weird, Alice."

"Maybe there was something else he was more interested in," she said cryptically. Before I could reply, Alice bounded up off the bed. "Time to get up! Edward will be ready for breakfast in twenty minutes!" she called, walking over to the door.

I rolled back over. "Why does she have to be psychic?" I grumbled under my breath. I sighed and threw back the covers. It didn't take me long to get ready; I took a quick shower, threw my hair in a braid and got dressed. Slightly more conscientious of my appearance than usual, I wore my new jeans and a deep red v-necked blouse that Alice had insisted I buy.

Edward was just beginning to wake up when I cautiously peeked around the corner into the living room. He lay flat on his back and his eyes were closed, but he was stretching out underneath the blankets I'd given him, rubbing a hand over his face. I stood in the hallway for a few minutes watching him. His hair was rumpled and there was a faint shadow of a beard on his cheeks. My heartbeat skittered; even first thing in the morning he was beautiful. It wasn't fair.

I jumped when I heard Alice behind me, and went quickly into the kitchen so she wouldn't catch me staring at him. I ran around like a mad person, slicing bread for French toast, frying eggs and bacon. I was still able to see Edward from the corner of my eye through the open kitchen though; I couldn't deny that it was endearing, watching him rub his sleepy eyes, and run a hand through his hair. He nodded groggily at me as he shuffled sleepily down the hall to the bathroom.

Alice was perched on the counter watching me cook when he returned. My voice cut off mid-sentence and my face burned as he turned his face towards me—inevitably remembering everything that had happened between us. The tension I was projecting seemed tangible, frantic; there was no way Alice couldn't be picking up on it. Edward in contrast, was his usual, relaxed, easy-going self; he showed no sign of awkwardness or self-consciousness. But that might have been because he was still half asleep. Alice smiled sunnily at him. "Have a good night?"

He shrugged and sat down on the stool, resting his chin on his fist. "I've had worse."

Alice cocked an eyebrow at him. "I just bet you have."

I set a mug of coffee down in front of him, trying to keep my hands from shaking noticeably. He thanked me, his voice quiet and rough, but I had no clue what he was thinking and that disconcerted me. I needed something—a smile, a frown, an apologetic expression—any sign of his feelings.

It was obvious that Edward wasn't a morning person, but he woke up considerably when I set the plates of food down in front of him. When his took his first bite of the French toast, his eyes widened and a made a small, happy sound that made my insides melt.

"Does she cook like this all the time?" he asked Alice, between bites. "How the fuck do you stay so skinny?"

Alice laughed at him, watching with amusement as shoveled his breakfast. "Wedding diet," she said simply. "But Bella pulled out all the stops today, she normally doesn't do breakfast."

"And I thought the dinner was good," he muttered under his breath, causing me to grin into my cup of tea.

Alice took her plate and went to sit beside him. "You heading home after breakfast?" she asked. He nodded, still too busy eating to speak. "I wonder how Claire will be when you get back; she was probably wondering where you were last night."

I choked on my sip of tea. _Claire? _It was the first time I'd heard the name. Did he have a girlfriend that Alice hadn't told me about? Some girl back at that wonderful cabin that I couldn't stop dreaming about?

Edward nodded. "She gets weird when I leave her alone."

"Who's Claire?" I asked, hoping the question sounded more innocent than it was.

"Edward's cat," Alice answered.

I blinked. "You named your cat Claire?" I asked, surprised. It didn't seem at all the sort of thing that Edward would name a pet of his.

Edward rolled his eyes. "Alice named her. I came over here one day a couple months ago and Alice hands me this mangy kitten she found under someone's porch, informs me that its name is Claire, and tells me I'm taking her home," he rolled his shoulders. "So I did."

"And you've never regretted it have you?" Alice said; it was obviously an old joke between them.

I loved cats. I had always wanted one but Charlie was allergic and Renee never would have let one in her house in case it started ripping at her couch. Suddenly, Edward's cottage—already so dreamlike to me—only seemed more perfect. I could picture it: a cold winter night, sitting in front of a fireplace, a cat curled up on my lap. It seemed so cozy and homey.

"That's an adorable story," I smiled at him. "I bet she's cute."

"For a cat," he said dryly. I laughed.

"Stop being silly Edward, you know she's the best thing that's happened to you since you moved here—besides me." Alice set her mug in the sink. "And Bella too of course." My face flamed but luckily Edward wasn't looking at me; he was staring at Alice, his eyes narrowed. Alice ignored us and grabbed her purse. "I have to go pick up Jasper at the airport. Thanks for the breakfast Bella, it was delicious as usual." Her eyes twinkled mischievously. "Have fun you guys!"

We waved goodbye, and a palpable feeling of uneasiness filled the room. It was the first time we'd been really alone together, and it was awkward as hell. I wondered if I should say something, introduce the subject of our kiss—but how? I turned away from Edward to bend over the sink and began to scrub dishes; I was blushing again.

Edward finished the last of his French toast and refused another helping. He pushed his plate away. I smiled shyly at him; if I couldn't verbalize my feelings, I would try to _show _him that I was okay with what had happened between us. Edward returned my smile with a grin of his own. "Thank you Bella," he said. "Alice was right, the food was delicious. Where did you learn to cook like that?"

"Out of necessity only; my dad is one of those people who can burn water, and my mom… well, she didn't cook much when I was a kid." My voice dropped as I remembered the other thing that I lain awake all night thinking about. The possibility that it might be time to visit Renee.

"Do you want a ride back to Forks when I go?" Edward asked. "I forgot about your truck last night," he said.

"Thanks. That would be really nice of you." I knew I should have sounded happier, but I was still thinking about my mother. I sighed quietly.

"You okay?" he asked.

I started a little in surprise, realizing that I was still in the middle of rinsing out a pan. I smiled. "Oh, yeah. I was just thinking." His eyebrows rose questioningly, pushing me to continue. Edward had already heard most of my family story and I hesitated to keep going on about it. At the same time though, I liked the idea of confiding in him, of him wanting to know about me. "Just more family drama," I shrugged. "I was thinking about what my stepsister said last night—about my mom I mean."

"It's been awhile since you've seen her, hasn't it? Are you feeling guilty?"

"I know I shouldn't be. I mean, she could call me if she was really so worried," I lowered my head. "But I'm glad she hasn't. I moved in with Alice because I wanted some space away from all of that, I needed some breathing room. At the same time though, I don't want her to think I've abandoned her. I know how awful that feels," I said softly.

"Does she deserve it?"

"I don't know," I answered honestly. "I wish she wouldn't make me feel so guilty about wanting to be on my own; I wish she wouldn't be so selfish. But at the same time, she's my mom. I can't just completely cut her out of my life. I think—I think I would regret it. I wish someone would just tell me what to do."

I looked up at him and our eyes locked. He looked away after only a few seconds, but something told me that he understood my feelings more clearly than he was letting on. "I'm probably not the right person to ask advice on about any of this," Edward said quietly.

"I know. This is one of those things where I'm just supposed to go with my gut, right?" I laughed.

We were quiet after that. I finished cleaning up the kitchen, waiting for Edward to say something about the night before. The continued silence on the subject only made me more anxious; I was afraid that he was going to pretend like nothing had happened between us. But something _had _happened and I needed him to acknowledge that, even if it was only as a joke or lighthearted teasing. I was just thinking of a way to introduce the topic without sounding like an idiot when Edward stood up.

"You ready to go?" he asked. My heart fell a little, but I nodded and went to get my coat. Now obviously wasn't the right time.

When we pulled up in front of my truck, still parked on the side of the road by Mike Newton's thankfully deserted house, I reluctantly climbed off the motorcycle and fumbled with the clasp of the helmet. I held it out to Edward and he took it, setting it down in front of him.

He was looking at me like he wanted to say something, or do something but didn't know how to. And the uncertainty in his eyes exactly mirrored what I was feeling inside that I took a step backwards, needing to get away from him before_ I _did or said something stupid. But of course I couldn't make a clean getaway—I tripped on a rock and lost my footing. Before I could fall, Edward immediately reached out and caught me, pulling me tight against him. My breath left me in a surprised whoosh and I grabbed onto his shoulders to steady myself.

We stared at each other for an indeterminable time. He didn't let go of me and I didn't pull away. I didn't want to.

I watched, fascinated, as Edward reached forward and gently cupped my face with his big hand, brushing his thumb against my cheek. And it was better than a kiss because _he _was the one to initiate the touch. I was immobilized under it. Frozen. And then his thumb dipped downwards to press against the crease in my lips; automatically they curled into a smile and I covered his hand with my own, squeezing lightly.

Edward was looking at me with such a fascinated expression on his face. Almost like he didn't know what he was doing or why he wanted to, and was trying to puzzle it out. His uncertainty was oddly… endearing. It made me feel hopeful. He wasn't running away from me, or distancing himself… he just wasn't sure.

"I'll see you later Bella," he murmured after what felt like hours but was really only a minute or so. And then his hand dropped suddenly, and he was pulling the helmet down over his head. Seconds later, the purr of the engine filled the air around me and he was gone. I stared after him, exhilarated and dazed, then made my way over to my truck. I felt like I was floating ten feet above the ground.

I spent the rest of the afternoon puttering around Alice's apartment. She'd left me a message saying that she and Jasper were spending the rest of the day in Seattle and probably wouldn't be back until very late that night. It had only been a handful of times that I'd been on my own in Alice's apartment, and I found I didn't know what to do with myself. The kitchen was spotless, my room was tidy; I could have gone for a walk but I didn't feel like doing so on my own. I tried to distract myself with a book, but I only managed to read a few pages before I put it down, remembering nothing of what I'd just read.

I finally settled myself on the couch, trying not to dwell on the fact that Edward had slept there, and flicked impatiently through the channels. I was interrupted just after 5 o'clock by a knock on the door. When I opened it, I saw Edward leaning casually against the opposite wall.

"You're here!" I cried, and opened the door wide to let him inside. "I thought you never knocked."

"I didn't want to scare you or anything," he said sheepishly. "I figured that Alice would have abandoned you so I thought I'd come keep you company for a bit."

"What about Claire," I teased, making fun of myself more than anyone else for my silly assumptions of the morning. "Doesn't she get weird when she's left alone?"

Edward's eyebrow rose. "She's a cat Bella. Besides, I think she had more fun without me last night. She's fine."

"So what do you want to do?" I asked, looking around at the empty apartment, acutely aware of Alice's absence. She was the one who was good at coming up with fun things to do.

Edward shrugged. "It's a nice day, do you want to go for a walk on the pier? And then maybe we could come back here and hang out, watch a movie or something?"

"That sounds perfect."

He paused, looking at me speculatively; I could see the teasing glint in his eyes. "If I promise to do the dishes this time, would you mind cooking dinner too?"

I laughed. "What is it with you and your one track mind Edward? I'm starting to think you only hang around me because I feed you!"

…

Later that night, after I had cooked and Edward had done the dishes as he'd promised, I curled up beside him on the couch as the movie we'd chosen began to play. In no time at all it seemed and without any of the awkwardness that usually crippled me, I was burying my face into his warm, solid shoulder. He wrapped his arm around me, and very gently ran his hands up and down my arm. I stopped breathing, shocked that it was really happening. In slow motion, he curled his arm tighter around me until his palm was splayed against my side, still massaging gently.

My face burned in embarrassment. I had gained a little weight since I'd moved in with Alice, but I knew I was still too skinny, my ribs poked out awkwardly, and it couldn't possibly be attractive. But Edward didn't seem to realize, or if he did, it wasn't enough to still his movements.

Gradually, I let myself relax, let the gentle rise and fall of his chest lull me, coax me into breathing again. I closed my eyes and inhaled his scent, pushing away every thought but the feel of him. Slowly, I laid my free arm on top of his stomach; I could feel the definition of his muscles through his thin t-shirt.

_Mine_, I suddenly thought, tightening my arms. I wanted him to be mine. I didn't want him to go home to other girls. I didn't want him alone in that cabin with only his cat to keep him company. I wanted to be with him. I wanted this to be normal, something we did every night, until I didn't even blink an eye when he held me like this.

For however long. Even if it broke my heart.

My eyes began to close and I didn't try to fight it. I wanted to sleep in Edward's arms. I wanted to have the memory of it, to give me the enough courage to fight for it. To allow myself to be selfish enough to want it.

When I woke sometime later, the lights were still dimmed and the movie was still playing. I blinked several times, but strangely I felt no disorientation or confusion. I knew exactly where I was and in whose arms I lay. I had never slept on anyone like this before, but it felt so right with Edward.

I slowly pulled my head back so I could look up at him. His head was thrown back, his eyes closed peacefully. At my small movement, his eyes opened and he looked down at me, the peaceful expression still on his face.

I had never noticed before, but there was a sadness in his gorgeous eyes. My mind still numbed with sleep, I realized that his heart had been broken before; the evidence of it was still on his face, more evident than ever now that he was so relaxed. His lips curved as watched me, still restrained, still masked. I slid my hand upwards until it rested just over his heart. It beat steadily and strongly beneath my palm and I felt a sudden fierce protectiveness of it.

Was there a way that I could have this, love Edward, and keep his heart whole and unbroken, all at the same time? Because I knew now that couldn't lose him, it would be worse than dying.

* * *

**I just couldn't resist calling Edward's cat Claire. It's my homage to my Quil/ Claire story - I had to get the name in somewhere ;-)**

**I know many of you have questions: Is Bella really going to die? Does this story have a happy ending? Believe me when I say that I wish I could tell you! However, I've decided that this story has to unfold naturally - so when Bella finds out, you'll find out. Now, this doesn't mean that she definitely is going to die or definitely isn't - right now, Bella believes she is and that's the important thing. I want Bella and my readers to go on this journey together.**

**I hope you understand. Once again, thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	9. Chapter 9: Bittersweet

******I had planned to post this last night but unfortunately, the power went out. Gotta love NH where this still happens on a fairly regular basis. Not ;-)**

**I put links to all the wedding details - wedding dress, bridesmad dress, etc - in my profile. I had a lot of fun doing 'research' for this chapter. **

**Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be mine :-(**

* * *

Chapter 9: Bittersweet

_Now I have come to understand,  
The way it is  
It's not a secret anymore  
'cause we've been through that before  
From tonight I know that you're the only one  
I've been confused and in t__he dark  
Now I understand_

_Just like a star across my sky  
Just like an angel off the page  
You have appeared to my life  
Feel like I'll never be the same_

-Like a Star, Corrine Bailey Rae

~_Augus_t~

A week and a half later I was standing on the front step of my mother's familiar immaculate white house, with its perfect lawn and perfectly trimmed bushes, trying to work up the courage to knock on the door.

I'd put this visit off for as long as I reasonably could, and with all the last minute wedding and moving details I'd been so busy helping Alice with, it hadn't been hard to find excuses to avoid seeing her. At the moment, Alice's apartment was literally a disaster zone as everything was in the middle of being packed and readied to ship down to Texas. The store was officially closed, and it was in the same messy state as the apartment. Alice fluctuated from being radiantly happy, to downright frantic, and only the thought that Jasper was taking a week off work and would soon be joining her kept her sanity intact.

It had been a whirl of shopping and last minute dress fittings and phone calls, and now with just ten days left until the wedding, my mother was understandably low on my list of priorities.

This didn't stop me from lying awake at night, worrying, when I should have been enjoying my well deserved sleep. There was so much on my mind these days, more than I liked to admit to myself; guilt, fear, anxiety, happiness, and uncertainty all whirled in my restless mind, making it impossible to relax. I woke up with deep shadows under my eyes, wanting nothing more than to roll over and escape back into unconsciousness. But I couldn't, not when Alice needed me.

Thoughts of my mother weren't the only thing keeping me up at night however, and in the grand scheme of everything they accounted very little for my anxiety. Of course it all inevitably came back to Edward and my nonexistent future with him—but now wasn't really the best time to be thinking about him.

I took a deep breath, trying to hold onto all the courage and contentment that Edward had given me over the past couple days, and raised my fist to knock on the door. When Renee opened it several moments later surprise was written all over her face. "Bella!" she cried, and pulled me in for a tight hug. I wrapped my arms around her shoulders, caught off guard by how foreign it felt, almost how I imagined hugging a stranger might feel. It had been a long time since she'd held me like this.

"Hi mom," I said softly, awkwardly patting her shoulder.

Renee pulled away after only a few seconds and led me to the living room. I sat down in my usual chair, while she stood next to the couch, tugging her hands like she didn't know what to do with me. She coughed nervously. "Do you want anything to drink? Something to eat?"

I frowned at her Suzy Homemaker fakeness, wishing that she could just be real with me. She had to be angry and worried and pissed off, and I wished that she would let me see that instead of covering it up with plastic perfection. I waited as she sat down on the couch opposite me and starting absently wiping non-existent dust off the coffee table, and waited for the façade to crack.

"Have you been to see your father?" she asked quietly.

Well, that was one way to do it. Renee had always been a little jealous and uncomfortable of my relationship with Charlie, and I was pretty sure I could use that to get her true feelings to show. So I nodded and replied mercilessly, "Yeah, I go see him every few weeks." Emotion flickered across her face but she reined it in. "I call him too, to tell him how I am."

Her eyes narrowed as if she knew what I was doing. She leaned towards me. "I'm worried about you Isabella; this isn't like you to go so long without talking to me—are you mad at me? Do you think I've done something to upset you?"

I could have mentioned Phil but I kept my mouth shut, knowing that any attack on her husband would cause her to shut down. "It's nothing personal mom, I just needed some space. We've never really had time apart, have we?"

"I don't see why we need it," her voice rose slightly. "I just don't understand you— you run out in the middle of dinner without a word of explanation, and the next thing I hear you're living with some girl in Port Angeles, without even the courtesy of giving your own mother a phone call. I heard about it from Deborah Stanley—can you imagine how mortifying that was for me?"

There. Her anger was starting to break through her shell; I braced myself for what was coming. "I never thought to expect this kind of trouble from you!"

"I left, that's it. I'm not doing anything that affects you directly—"

"You're my daughter, everything you do affects me!" she yelled. "Moving in with Alice Brandon? What on earth made that sound like a good idea? Even her own mother thinks she's crazy!"

"Alice is my best friend," I said quietly.

Renee shook her head angrily, disregarding that completely. "And don't even get me started on Edward Masen! Rosalie told me that she saw you on the back of that man's motorcycle at two in the morning. What on earth were you doing out with him that late at night?"

I sighed and rubbed my eyes with the heel of my hand, grateful that she didn't know exactly how much time I'd been spending with him lately. Dinners and movies and hanging out, and mostly just the two of us. The kiss had been a one time occurrence however, and I didn't know whether to be disappointed or relieved about that. Best that my mother never hear any of it though.

"And Mrs. Mallory said she saw you going to Mike Newton's party last week—I don't understand Isabella, you were never that kind of girl before! You used to be so… so easy and good. Are you doing drugs, is that it? Is that why you're spending so much time with that man?"

"No, I am not doing drugs," I replied, as forcefully as I could manage.

"I wish I could believe you…" she trailed. "Don't you know what people say about him?"

"I don't give a fuck what people say about him!" I burst out loudly. Renee reeled backwards as if I had slapped her.

I dropped my head into hands and took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. "Mom," I sighed. "Just because I left doesn't mean I've changed, at least that I've changed in a _bad_ way. I like who I am better now. I'm happier, I have friends now, I'm having fun now working at Alice's store. Why can't you be happy for me?"

"The things I hear Bella—"

"Hear _me!_" I yelled. "Don't listen to all those gossips—listen to your daughter! Alice and Jasper and Edward are good people. I don't believe any of the crap anyone says about him because I _know _them. Why can't you trust me?"

I lifted my head just in time to see Renee's face fall in disappointment. It was worse than her anger, and unfortunately, something I was far more familiar with. "I love you, but I can't believe everything you say Bella. You're so naïve, so young. You've never experienced anything like this before. You've never been on your own before."

"So let me make my own mistakes for once. Everyone has to start somewhere; let me live my life. That's all I'm asking for."

Renee didn't speak for a long time, then finally, she exhaled deeply. "How long is this going to go on? Are you planning on staying Port Angeles indefinitely?"

I wished I could tell her yes, just to see the look on her face, but the truth was that she probably already knew or would soon know that Alice was leaving. "No," I answered. "Alice is getting married next Saturday and then she's moving to Texas to live with Jasper. The lease on her apartment is up three days after the wedding."

"So after that you'll come home?" she asked, the corners of her lips lifting upwards in a smile. I shrugged vaguely, and Renee was so happy that she didn't notice it.

"Oh, it will be so good to have you home again!" she smiled. "I know you think I'm crazy but I worry about you so much. You're my baby and I never want to see you get hurt."

I forced a smile but kept silent. What was there to say? Because I knew—I had always known— that Renee thought she was doing what was best for me, in her own screwed up way. She had been so young when I was born, and she hadn't known how to be a mother to me; it was too big for her so she'd run away without ever really trying. And now _I _was running away and she didn't know how to handle that either.

"I'm sorry I upset you," I said, my voice low and almost robotic.

"That's okay Isabella!" she cried, jumping up to hug me tightly. I let her, loosely hugging her back. "Everything will be alright when you come back to us."

I nodded absently. "I should get going. Alice will be wondering where I am."

She nodded tightly, and I could tell that any mention of Alice upset her. She hugged me again and made me promise not to go so long without hearing from me. I felt more distanced from her than ever before… my poor, clueless mother. It made me sad.

A gloom hung over me the whole ride back to Port Angeles. The feeling that I had never had my mother, never really gotten to know her… and now with so little time left, I wasn't even sure I wanted to.

…

At last, the day of the wedding arrived. The days preceding it had been busy—extra busy for me because I'd wanted to give Alice some time to simply enjoy her wedding week with Jasper so I'd taken over some of her tasks. I was looking forward to it being over however: weddings were more work than I'd realized.

It was a rare sunny Saturday, although I had the feeling that even a little rain wouldn't have dampened Alice's enthusiasm. Jasper had been banished to a hotel the night before, leaving Alice's sister Cynthia and I to keep the bride company. Cynthia was very similar looking to Alice: she was almost as tiny as her sister, and her hair was cut in a short pageboy style. She obviously worshipped the ground Alice walked on. We had gone bridesmaid dress shopping together in Seattle and I honestly liked her. She was very sweet and earnest and excited that her sister was getting married, unlike the rest of their family from what I gathered.

We had had a fun couple of hours of manicures, popcorn and sappy chick flicks before going to bed way too late the night beforehand. It would have been fine except Alice's mother, who looked so upset that it seemed she would burst into tears at any second, invaded the apartment at a god-awful hour the next morning. I'd finally had to banish her to the living room while Alice got dressed because I wasn't sure Alice could take that extra stress.

When I had first seen Alice in her wedding dress at the bridal store, my mouth had literally dropped open. It was the most beautiful, unusual but perfectly appropriate thing I had ever seen, and it fit Alice's personality perfectly. I should have known that she wasn't the type to go for a huge ball gown. Instead, it was a pale off white chiffon that set off her dark hair and creamy skin perfectly. A light yellow sash wrapped around her tiny waist, accented with an exquisite fabric flower on her hip.

The unusual thing about the dress was the length, which fell right below the knee. The skirt flared out dramatically with layer after layer of tulle that almost reminded me of a ballerina's tutu. Add to that a pair of killer heels and a sheer blusher and I was pretty sure the guests would be talking about Alice for a while.

I was wearing a simple spaghetti strap dress with intricate crochet work a long the top and hem. Cynthia's dress was very similar, except hers came with delicate cap sleeves. The dresses were several shades lighter that yellow on the sash of Alice's dress, and had an almost antique quality to them that I loved.

The ceremony took place in a small chapel. It was filled to the brim with people that I guessed must be Jasper's family and other friends from out of town, since I didn't recognize many faces in the crowd. Mrs. Brandon was sitting in the front pew crying quietly, but I was pretty sure they could be mistaken for happy tears at least. In contrast, Jasper's parents, who I'd met at the rehearsal dinner, were beaming ecstatically. It was no wonder that Alice was so willing to move to Texas. Jasper stood at the alter looking happy and freaked out and like he wished that the whole thing was already over.

I'd been peeking through the chapel doors—ostensibly spying for Alice, but I was also looking for Edward. He hadn't said one way or the other if he was coming to the wedding, but I could understand why he might be hesitant to. There were several people from Forks here—people like Alice's mother who lived on gossip and would have no problem whispering about it for weeks afterwards. They would probably stare and whisper behind his back; this was Alice's day, I knew he wouldn't want to cause any negativity.

Still… Edward was just as likely to say 'fuck 'em,' and come anyway to support his friends.

There was no sign of him in the chapel however, and I felt a wave of disappointment wash over me. Alice had gotten my hair and makeup done and I was wearing heels and a pretty dress… I looked pretty good I thought, for me anyway. I would have liked Edward to see me all done up.

What is it about weddings that make them go by so fast? In no time at all it seemed, a bouquet had been thrust into my hands and I was walking down the aisle. Moments later the wedding march began to play and Alice was gliding towards us, alone and ethereal, the veil and all the chiffon making her look like a perfect, porcelain ghost. A slow smile spread across her face and she didn't once take her eyes off Jasper, or he take his eyes from her.

I held my breath, struggling not to get teary, knowing that something beautiful was happening in front of me. I blinked them away and glanced out towards the crowd. Alice's mother wasn't crying anymore, but she looked like she wanted to; everyone was smiling, a few people were crying… And there, in the very back of the chapel, leaning casually against the doorway with his arms folded in front of him, was Edward.

Our eyes met and Edward's lips quirked upwards in response, his eyes crinkling at the corners. No one could see him except those standing at the front and I knew he had planned that in his own quiet, unobtrusive, but always supportive way.

The ceremony was short and sweet. Alice didn't cry, just beamed glowingly from ear to ear; Jasper had a couple close calls but managed to hold it together. When it was over, everyone clapped and yelled and Alice threw herself at Jasper and gave him a huge kiss, making everyone laugh.

I watched as Edward tipped his head at Alice and mouthed "congratulations" when she finally turned towards the crowd. Alice grinned and she blew him a kiss and waved as he disappeared as quietly as he had come.

Then followed all those silly traditions that everyone hates but endures anyway, like posing for pictures, and pointless small talk and receiving lines. I shook endless hands and nodded and murmured in agreement when they repeated over and over again _wasn't it beautiful? _and _doesn't Alice look gorgeous? _and _they look so happy together_, when really I was looking past them, trying to catch a glimpse of Edward somewhere in the crowd.

I knew he was probably already gone but I didn't want to admit it. I wanted to find him and make him promise to come to the reception so we could dance during all the sappy love songs and sip champagne, and if I got a little lightheaded it would be okay because Edward would be there and he'd never let anything bad happen to me. I wanted him to drive me home so I wouldn't have to go back to the apartment alone. I wanted us to sneak off together and look up at the stars and maybe kiss him again. I wanted him nearby so I wouldn't have to face the overwhelming love and sweetness emanating from Alice and Jasper with each small look and touch, alone.

I just needed him. And not only today, but every day. That was the honest, unavoidable truth and there wasn't any point in pretending otherwise anymore. I sighed and turned my attention back to the present. Alice was still here and I had to make sure the car that would take the married couple to the reception was here, and then there were probably caterers, DJ's, and cakes and whatever else that would need sorting. Plenty of things left to distract myself with.

In the end, it was everything that Alice had wanted. The food was delicious, the music was good. Alice was whirl of energy as she went around hugging and chatting with all her quests, with strong quiet Jasper following behind her, an enormous satisfied grin on his face. The sky stayed a bright vivid blue and the mountains across the Juan de Fuca strait were clear and gorgeous. I should have known that Alice would be right when she promised perfect weather when I'd warned against having an outdoor wedding.

The reception took place at a beautiful little inn, nestled right between the woods and the sea; the wide grassy lawn that led right up to the cliffs perfectly accommodated the big tent Alice had finally agreed on. All around us were the sweet smelling flowers of the owners' English garden. When dusk came, I snuck out and lit all the votive candles that Edward and I had scattered throughout the yard the night before and switched on the twinkle lights and soft Japanese lanterns, and glowed inside when everyone commented that it looked like a magical wonderland.

I smiled all night—and they were real smiles too, not for the benefit of anyone but me. I had a wonderful talk with Jasper's eccentric uncle and laughed more at his risqué jokes than I ever had in my life. I danced with some of Alice's cousins and smiled shyly when they flirted with me.

And I couldn't shake the sense that something was missing from all this. Was that what falling in love meant? Never feeling complete until he was nearby? Needing only a small smile or look to feel that everything would be okay? Wanting to share big moments and little moments alike?

The night wore down and after a long hug and whispers of _thank you, thank you, thank you_ from Alice and Jasper I waved them off as everyone blew bubbles and cheered.

I was the last one to leave, a little before midnight. When I arrived back at the apartment, I stood in the doorway for a few minutes taking in the silent, dark rooms. It all looked utterly barren and deserted. The bright artwork on the walls were gone, only a few miscellaneous boxes and pieces of furniture remained, ready to be shipped to Austin the next day. But the emptiness went deeper than lack of decorations, everything was different without Alice.

I had hardly gotten five hours of sleep during the past three days so I was mind-numbingly tired. My feet ached and I just wanted to put on my pajamas and go to bed but I wasn't quite ready for that yet. I slipped off my high heels and sat on the floor in the middle of the living room, wrapping my arms around my knees.

It was a bittersweet moment. On one hand, I was thrilled for Alice; her new life was starting and I knew that she and Jasper were going to be wonderfully happy together. I was blessed that she had asked me to move in with her—it had completely changed my life. And feeling sad because was over now. In two days I would be leaving this apartment… to what I wasn't quite sure yet.

I sat there for almost a half an hour, letting my body unwind after what had been a satisfying but stressful day. Finally, I picked myself up, yawning, and went to my bedroom. All of the furniture except for the bed was gone, but being in this room was far less painful than anywhere else in the apartment.

I paused when I saw a wrapped box with a big yellow bow placed in the middle of my bed. I stared down at it in puzzlement, looking for a note but not finding one, and then cautiously began to unwrap it. Inside was the dove gray dress that I had admired during my first tour of Alice's store. I pulled it out, staring in amazement as the silk shone in the moonlight. How on earth had she known? There was a note tucked at the bottom; I pulled it out and in Alice's looping, hurried scrawl was written:

_Bella-_

_I know how skeptical you are of my 'feelings' but after reconnecting with you in that diner I'm more certain than ever that they exist and that to ignore them is to miss out on something wonderful. Having you back in my life has been wonderful, one of the best things that's ever happened to me in fact._

_I noticed before how you looked at this dress—now, don't shake your head Bella, you aren't as transparent as you think you are! This is my small, inadequate thank you for everything you've done. I never could have survived the past few months without you. _

_Every woman needs a beautiful dress… and one of my 'feelings' is telling me you're going to need this sooner rather than later. Don't be afraid Bella, you're going to get everything you want, you deserve it. Good luck._

_Love, Alice  
_

Well, fuck.

Alice really _could _see the future. There was no point in denying that anymore. I fingered the soft material and knew it was a sign. I hoped that Alice was right when she said that all her feelings led to something wonderful, I would need that kind of certainty if I was going to—well, if I was going to be brave enough to wear this dress.

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**Oooh, pretty cryptic. Where do _you_ think Bella will wear the dress? I'd love to hear any theories.  
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	10. Chapter 10: Into Your Hands

**Disclaimer: Characters belong to Stephenie Meyer**

**A/N: This is the chapter many of you wanted most. I hope you like it :-)**

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Chapter 10: Into Your Hands

_Honey you are a rock  
Upon which I stand  
And I come here to talk  
I hope you understand_

_That green eyes, yeah the spotlight shines upon you  
And how could anybody deny you?__  
And honey you should know, that I could never go on without you_

_I came here with a load  
And it feels so much lighter now I've met you_

Green Eyes, Coldplay

_~August~_

I woke the morning after Alice and Jasper's wedding feeling strangely deflated. For the first time in months there was nothing to do, no one to cook breakfast for, nothing to clean or pack, no deadline to rush towards. There was no smell of coffee wafting through the apartment or the low murmur of Alice voice.

I lay in bed for a long time, not knowing what to do with myself. At least the stillness gave me plenty of time to think, something I needed badly; I knew I never would have been able to concentrate so easily if Alice had been around. I wondered briefly if she was having fun on her honeymoon before I pushed her out of my thoughts entirely. I had spent the last two months working to get her settled into her new life and now it was time for me to focus on my own future, on what _I_ wanted— needed it to look like.

I took a long shower, savoring the way the hot water soothed my tense muscles. I hadn't had a really debilitating attack in weeks but my chest felt achy and tight, which was almost worse in a way than an outright attack. I had noticed other things too, like how I sometimes couldn't catch my breath after walking up the stairs and how I couldn't always breathe as deeply as I wanted to.

The moving company came a little after eleven to take away the rest of Alice's boxes and furniture. When they were gone I walked around the empty rooms feeling more than ever like an intruder, skulking around a space that had never and would never belong to me. The entire apartment was empty save for a blow up mattress that Edward had loaned me, my own few possessions, paper dishes, plastic utensils and some leftovers in the fridge. I'd never felt more transitory in my entire life.

Alice had never come right out and asked what I was planning to do after she left; I wondered if she was just trying to be polite or if her freaky sixth sense had already clued her onto my plans. I hoped not; one of the only things giving me the courage to move forward was the knowledge that only Edward would know if it worked out badly. Despite my uncertainty over the outcome, one thing was for sure however, I would not be going back to Charlie's; I'd live in my truck first.

And so I waited, sitting on the floor of the living room with my laptop open beside me, wondering if he would come. I had a feeling he would but there was no way to be certain… what if he didn't?

Relief shot through me when the door opened only an hour after the movers left and Edward walked inside, the habitual easy-going smirk absent from his face. He looked down at me for a few seconds, then reached a hand out to help me to my feet. He wrapped his arms comfortingly around my waist and I leaned my head against his shoulder, my body thrilling at the small touch that was becoming almost an ordinary occurrence between us. I should have known that he would notice my depression without my needing to say a word.

We stood there for a while, just holding each other. "It was a beautiful wedding," I said finally, pressing my cheek further into his warm t-shirt. "I know Alice was so happy you came." I could feel Edward nodding above me but he didn't reply. I wondered what he was thinking about.

We pulled away from each other then and looked at the unavoidable emptiness around us. I slumped dejectedly against the wall, causing Edward to turn towards me. "Come on, we have to get out of here. There's a place I go to sometimes, when I need to think. Will you let me take you there?' he asked. "It's kind of a hike to get to, but I think you'll like it."

I smiled up at him, nodding enthusiastically. I wanted nothing more than to get out of the apartment, and, as pathetic as it sounded, I knew I'd let Edward take me anywhere.

After I changed into more hiking appropriate clothes and shoes, Edward and I got into his Volvo and drove to a long dirt road just outside Forks. I normally wasn't a huge fan of the woods, and I was feeling a little apprehensive since Dr. Thompson's warning against strenuous activity was still fresh on my mind, but Edward kept up a sedate, easy pace as he led me through unbroken forest. I kept waiting to come across a trail but we never did.

When it dawned on me that we probably weren't going to I turned incredulously towards Edward. "Don't tell me that one day you just decided you were going to ignore all the trails around here and go wandering off by yourself?" I asked, marveling inwardly how Edward seemed to know exactly where he was going even though he had no map or GPS. "You must have gotten lost…"

"Once or twice," he shrugged, a teasing quality in his voice. "Don't you know that's the best part?"

"It wouldn't surprise me if you did," I smirked.

He laughed, and then his voice became more serious. "No, in the beginning I used my GPS, I wasn't _that _stupid. But I've been coming here so long now that I know exactly where I am."

We talked quietly as we walked. It was a beautiful day, sunlight dappled down through the thick overhang of trees above us. Every now and then Edward would stop to point out some beautiful thing to me—the way moss had grown across a fallen log, a huge tree that was so wide across that it would have taken two of me to wrap my arms all the way around it, a bird alighting from a tree. He held my hand, helping me across the uneven ground, keeping me from stumbling.

At last, I began to see a distinct lightening in the trees ahead of us. Edward did too, and he seemed to speed up at the sight of it; I wondered if that was where Edward was taking me. When we came closer Edward hung back slightly, letting me go forward by myself. As I stepped through the edge of the trees, my mouth opened in surprise.

It was a meadow, a wide beautiful meadow, with a gorgeous panoramic view of the mountains beyond. There had been a quick shower earlier and the grass seemed to sparkle as the bright sunlight reflected off the raindrops. I whipped around, looking for Edward, wanting to thank him for bringing me here. He was standing a couple feet behind me, leaning against a tree trunk, watching me intently.

"It's beautiful," I whispered. "I've never seen anything like this before." I turned around to take in the view again, and slowly began to walk into the meadow. "Isn't that sad. I've lived here basically my whole life and I never knew anything like this existed."

Edward came to stand next to me. "See, sometimes it's better not to follow any trails."

"Kind of like the Robert Frost poem," I nodded. "_Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—I took the one less traveled by, and it has made all the difference,_" I recited. "That's you Edward."

He frowned down at me. "I wouldn't quite say that."

"Really? It always seemed like you were used to going your way. I remember when you first moved to Forks— no matter what anyone said about you, you just did your own thing and never let any of that pettiness get to you. I always admired that, a little jealous too."

"Who says it never bothered me?" he asked quietly, taking a blanket out from the backpack he had brought, and spreading it out on the ground.

"_Does_ it bother you?"

"I never understood it," he answered. "When I first came here I just wanted to be left alone; it made no sense to me why everyone cared so much. I may understand a little better now, but that doesn't mean I'm any happier about it."

"You were just different," I said, sitting down on beside him. I wanted to move closer to him, touch him, reassure him that I didn't care about the gossip, but a blank, disinterested mask was securely back over Edward's face again, hiding his feelings from me. I had lately begun to see the edges of the mask crumble slightly, to see it fade every now and then when he was happy or laughing.

I hated that mask.

"I remember the first time I saw you," I said, moving closer to him, lightly touching his arm. "I was going to work one day and you were across the street. You looked so tired." I lifted my hand to trace his cheek with the tips of my fingers. "I knew you must have been the guy everyone was talking about, by then all the rumors were going around like crazy… but when I saw you I knew I didn't care."

I moved towards him, dropping my hand to his shoulder to steady myself. Edward was looking at me, a wary expression on his face, but underneath it I could see that familiar pull in his eyes, like he wanted this just as badly as I did but was afraid to let himself go so far. I leaned towards him, half-smiling, not caring at all if I was acting like an idiot.

"Bella—" he began warningly, but I shook my head, covering his lips with my fingers.

"Please be quiet Edward; I promise you can say anything you want to afterwards but right now I just really, really want to kiss you."

To my astonishment, he did stop talking. He rolled his eyes and his lips quirked upwards as if to say _I knew this would happen, _and he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer. Excitement coursed through me as I pressed my lips to his, still feeling a little uncertain. I was so new to the whole kissing thing… and I wanted so badly for Edward to enjoy it too. To be good enough.

It began as a sweet kiss, very similar to the first and only one we had ever shared, slow and exploratory, just us learning the feel of each other. And then Edward relaxed fully, his arms tightened around me, pulling me closer and I melted into him because I didn't know any other way. My senses were overwhelmed, touch and taste and sound—everything was Edward.

He fell back against the blanket holding me firmly on top of him, my mouth opened—the tip of my tongue brushed against his and moan tore its way out of my chest.

I pulled away with a gasp.

"Bella…" Edward said, his voice gritty and low.

"I know," I sighed, breathing heavily. Kissing Edward was blissful, intoxicating, I wanted more, but it was also terribly unfair. A lie, because even though he knew more about me than anyone, he still didn't know enough.

"I want to tell you something Edward," I said, my voice faltering as I rolled away from him on the blanket and sat up. "I almost told you the night of that concert, but I—I couldn't. I wasn't ready yet." I bit my lip, still tasting him there. "When we were talking about why I moved in with Alice I left something out, something really important."

I took a deep breath; this was it. I was going to tell Edward. Everything.

And the funny thing was that I actually _wanted_ to tell him. My parents, my friends, people I had known my entire life—the thought of them knowing about my diagnosis filled me with terror. But telling Edward Masen—a man I knew literally nothing about—that was okay. More than okay, I actually wanted to. I wondered if it would feel good, if I would feel any lighter after sharing the burden. I wondered if Edward would look at me any differently.

But it didn't matter, even if it screwed up my life even more, even if Edward never looked at me the same way again…

Because. Just because.

Edward's eyebrow arched, waiting for me to continue. "I left because I didn't have any more time to waste waiting on other people. There's something I've—I've never told anyone this, not my parents or even Alice. I couldn't stand it if they knew."

My heart was beating rapidly and I unconsciously put my hand over it, remembering the shattering pain. My whole body was shaking, and I felt clammy cold.

_You don't have to do this Bella. You can go to back to Charlie's, and it will be safe and easy and nothing—good or bad—will ever happen to you again. All you have to do is say 'I'm sorry' and walk away._

But I looked into Edward's eyes, those shocking green eyes, and I knew I wasn't that person anymore, the one who ran away whenever things got hard, who couldn't deal. I wanted Edward to understand—to really understand, to see every shitty, broken part of me, to_ really _know me better than any other person in the world.

Edward's warm hand covered mine. And it was that small gesture that I needed to finally speak.

And so I told him. I told him about the first morning I had woken up with what I thought was a bad case of heartburn, how the pain had worsened over the following months until it had become unbearable. I told him about that final doctor's appointment that had shattered my entire world.

I didn't leave anything out.

And when I was done Edward just stared at me.

"You haven't told anyone else about this?" he finally said after an awful silence. "What about Alice?" He ran his fingers through his hair, looking more unsettled than I had ever seen him.

"You're the only one who knows," I answered, wishing that I could be the one running my fingers through his hair.

Edward didn't say anything for a long moment, didn't even look at me as he processed what I had just told him. I held my breath, knowing his next inevitable question would be the hardest to answer… but I promised myself that I would be honest when I answered it.

Edward looked across at me and said just one word. "Why?" And then he shook his head. "Why did you tell _me _this?"

_Honesty Bella_, I told myself. It was time to tell the truth.

I shrugged. "Because it's you."

"Bella—" but I interrupted him before he could speak. I had to do this, for myself as much as for Edward. Meeting Alice again after so many years had been lucky, but she was only the first step in taking back control over my life; I was going to have to go so much further if I truly wanted to be happy. No one was going to magically appear this time and make everything better; I was going to have to do it on my own.

"No, let me go first please," I said, my voice unsteady. My heart was pounding heavily in my chest, I was shaking all over and I had broken out in a cold sweat but I still managed to smile at Edward. He was so beautiful to me—unsure and confused and trusting as he was. "There's something else I need to tell you."

Could I really do it? Lay my entire self open for Edward to see… to judge? Telling him about my heart was a cake walk compared to all the secrets I had locked away. I curled my arm over my chest, an unconscious gesture that I was making more and more often these days. Suddenly, I felt an overwhelming need to look anywhere but at Edward—because one look into his eyes and I was certain I would lose whatever nerve I had. And I couldn't chicken out now, not when I was so close, but the weight of it was heavy on me… these words would change the rest of my life.

One way or the other.

"My whole life," I whispered, closing my eyes, "I never wanted anyone to know what I was really thinking and feeling. I was always afraid that if people… saw too much of me then they wouldn't like me, and so it just seemed easier to be this bland boring person than to put myself out there like that. But I don't want to be that person anymore Edward—" I opened my eyes and looked straight up into his intense green ones. His gaze was fixed, unwavering on my face, and there was no repulsion or dislike in it, just a very quiet sort of understanding. "I _can't _be that person anymore."

My fingers were shaking uncontrollably as I tentatively reached out for Edward's hand. I didn't know where I was getting the courage from, but I needed to feel his skin on mine. And impossibly, his hand closed around mine, squeezing reassuringly.

"I'm going to die." It was a relief to say the words in such an unapologetic, blunt way. No more damn euphemisms or skirting around it, just the plain honest truth. "But before I do, I want to _live. _For the first time in my life I'm doing what _I _want to do, even if it's crazy or weird or stupid… And I'm trying to say what I really feel, especially to you, because this is so important that I have to be honest. To be anything else would be unfair."

I dropped my head into my hands. "I don't want be afraid anymore. And God—it sounds so easy when I put it that way," my voice dropped to a whisper, "but I'm terrified Edward. Being honest scares me more than anything else in my life." I finally met his gaze, feeling my whirling thoughts and emotions solidify into one absolute certainty. "But the truth is I love you."

"I love you," I repeated in a stronger voice. A feeling of intense relief shot through me, and a small choked exhale escaped my lips. I had done it—no matter how Edward reacted—I had said the words, unburdened myself of them. I could breathe, for the first time in weeks I could breathe.

Edward's fingers turned to stone around mine though his expression didn't change. I regretfully pulled my hand from his, wanting to give him space to process my words.

A faint tinge of color touched his cheeks, but at last he spoke. "Bella, you know I don't…" he stuttered uncertainly. "I don't feel the same way… I don't love you."

I struggled not to let any change in expression touch my face. _It's not about how he feels Bella—it's how _you _feel. It's about finally being brave enough to let yourself actually want something. _

"I know," I answered. "It's okay; I just had to say it."

"I like you; I really do like you Bella—but just not that way." I nodded, not really surprised. I knew it was really better that way.

Did I want Edward to love me? I looked into eyes, bright, vivid, _alive_, and felt the fire inside that he caused, the wrenching butterflies in my stomach. My lips tingled as I remembered what it felt like to kiss him. I wanted to do it again… I wanted to do _more _than kiss. My heart sputtered unevenly as I imagined what it would be like.

I wanted to lie in bed at night with his arms around me, and I wanted to breathe him in until I knew his scent by heart, and I wanted to watch him all the time, knowing that I had a right to watch him. And so, if I was being completely honest, of course I wanted him to love me back. I wanted to hear him murmur the words, and I wanted him to feel the same ache for me that I felt for him.

But I had a year—less than a year really— and I couldn't be so selfish when I didn't have forever to give him in return. So I would take whatever he gave me, whatever I could get. I would take his kisses, I'd take his conversation, I'd take lying in his arms at night and waking up beside him every morning if he would let me have them. I would give whatever I could in return—pitiful as it was—because I was already asking for far, far too much.

He would miss me when I was gone, as a friend, since we'd already proven that we could be that,_ good _friends even. But when it was over I would not leave him aching the way he would ache if he loved me. His heart would be whole, intact, unbroken, not even bruised. I could give him that peace at least.

I would give anything, do anything. It was the only way. Especially if he gave me what I asked for in return.

Edward was staring at me; I could see the pieces clicking inside his head and I knew he understood, maybe more than I wanted him to. Pity softened his face.

"I could keep talking Edward, I could go on and on and explain all my reasons but really it comes down to two things: I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.

And that's why I have to—why I have to ask…"

My heart was beating so fast that I was sure he could hear it, I felt lightheaded and dizzy and I couldn't help but wonder where sane, rational Bella had gone. And yet… there was an inner calmness too. What was the worst thing that could happen?

"What is it Bella?" Edward asked, sensing my nervousness. "You know you can ask anything."

Anything? I wondered if he really meant that, there was really only one way to find out…

"Will you marry me?"

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**Ok—I know! But after _New Moon, _I just couldn't resist that ending! So, be honest... did anyone see that coming? I promise, more will be explained in the next chapter. **

**In the meantime, leave me a review and let me know what you think ;-)  
**


	11. Chapter 11: Ladder to the Sun

**A huge thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, or recommended this story! You are the smartest, most insightful readers ever and I'm incredbly inspired by you. Keep it up.**

**Interesting fact: L.M Montgomery wrote the confession/ proposal scene in three and half, very small pages - I was tempted to count the number of words but I decided that was taking procrastination too far ;-) It's taken me 2 chapters. Sometimes I really have wonder about myself...**

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Chapter 11: Ladder to the Sun

_If you want me then you can have me_  
_take me, oh baby grab me_  
_Cause if you want me then you can have me_

_Cause you're not just anyone_  
_You're a ladder to the sun_  
_You're not just anyone_  
_You're a ladder to the sun_

-Ladder to the Sun, Coldplay

~August~

"_Will you marry me?"_

Edward blinked, once, twice. His mouth opened and closed soundlessly as if he couldn't believe what I had said. Time ticked by excruciatingly slow—seconds, minutes, or was it longer?—as I waited for him to say something. I felt naked under his stare, overexposed and vulnerable in a way that made my face burn. I dropped my eyes to the blanket, fixing my gaze on the hole just next to Edward's hand as if it was the most interesting thing I'd ever seen.

_Please say something Edward, _I begged him inside my head. _Say anything._

At last, he spoke, his voice very soft. "You're not joking are you?"

I sighed. "No, I'm not."

The high I'd gotten from confessing my feelings to Edward was rapidly wearing away, leaving me feeling hollow and miserable. I didn't want to take back what I had said— I still meant every word— but I wanted to fast forward through this whole uncomfortable conversation to the outcome.

"Marriage?" he began hesitantly, running his long fingers through his hair in his habitual nervous habit. "You want to _marry_ me? But Bella… why?"

"Because I, I want you," I said, blushing. There were so many ways that Edward could take those words. And they were all true. "Believe me, I _never_ thought I would be asking this," I exclaimed, not wanting him to think I was crazy. "When I was seventeen I thought marriage was the stupidest thing in the world… I didn't understand."

"But you do now?"

I flushed. "Since I've met you, yes, I can understand wanting to… belong to someone. Wanting to belong to _you. _To have something permanent in that way."

That was the only way I could describe it to myself. I needed something concrete, real, something that would go beyond the next ten months, that would last forever even if it was only written on a piece of paper and forgotten about. _I _would know, and so would Edward…

I looked up in time to see Edward's forehead pull together in a deep frown. "Don't you know how unfair what you're asking for is?" he asked.

I flinched, feeling like I'd just run over a puppy or something equally heinous. "Of course I know how unfair this is!" I cried. "I'm fully aware that you get nothing out of this— God Edward, do you think I don't know how terrible I'm being to you? I tell you stuff even my own family doesn't know, and I ask you to _marry _me—and you don't, you don't even…" I slumped a little, not finishing the sentence. An awful bitter laugh forced its way out of my throat. "I know that this is the most selfish thing I've ever done, and I'm so sorry for burdening you with this."

Edward dropped his head forward onto his palm and sighed. "That's not what I mean at all."

"Then what _do_ you mean?"

"You say you want to belong to me—I get wanting to give yourself to someone you love, fuck, I've been there too. But I also know that if it's not equal, if it's not mutual give and take, just how easy it is to get your heart broken. Bella I don't want you breaking your heart over me; I'm not worth it."

"It's my heart," I said stubbornly. "It's my decision to make." _And you _are_ worth it. _

"Don't you want someone who feels the same way about you?"

"In a perfect world, of course I would want that. But the fact is that I have ten months Edward, that's never going to happen for me."

"It should happen to you!" he said vehemently. "You deserve that!" He ran a hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck. When he spoke again, his voice had gentled. "Jesus Bella, you've only seen one doctor, what about specialists? Someone has to be able to do something…"

"Yeah, that's what Dr Thompson said. He gave me a list of all these hospitals and doctors I should visit; he told me that if I was very lucky maybe I'd get an extra six months." I shook my head. "Chemotherapy, experimental treatments… I don't even know what else, but I'm pretty sure it would mean six months of being too sick to move. I don't want to live that way— but I really don't want to _die _that way."

Neither of us spoke for a long time. I could tell that Edward was absorbing what I'd said. I saw the pity clearly written across his face and wondered how it would feel later on, to know he married me because he felt sorry for me. I wondered if I was willing to use that pity to get what I wanted. How far was I really willing to go? I pushed away the prickly uncomfortable feeling the thought caused; I would continue to be honest… and Edward didn't have to do anything he didn't want to.

"I'm so fucking sorry," he said very gently. "I knew there was something… off with you, but I never imagined it was anything so bad."

"You could tell I was sick?" And here I'd thought I'd done such a good job of hiding it from everyone.

"Don't worry, I don't think most people would pick up on it; it was just little things." Edward started suddenly. "The night of the concert, you were having an attack weren't you?" I nodded. "Are they always like that?"

"Before I started taking medicine they were usually worse; some hurt so much that I couldn't even move." I shuddered, remembering. "But I don't have nearly as many as I used to, and when I do they don't last long." I paused hesitantly. "You wouldn't have to worry about taking care of me or anything. Dr. Thompson said that when I… die, it'll happen really suddenly; he said that I'll most likely I'll be fine until it happens. It won't impact your life at all, I promise."

"Hmmm," was Edward said.

I rubbed my eyes, feeling incredibly tired all the sudden. "I know that what I'm asking for is huge. You can say no. You don't have to be afraid of… hurting my feelings or anything."

"What would you do if I did?"

I shrugged. "Hope you wouldn't push me away completely. I'm pathetic enough to want whatever I can have with you, however… casual." I winced a little at the word, wishing that there was a better one. "I don't have any shame when it comes to you."

He shook his head and I could see the impatience rising to the surface; I could tell he didn't like what I'd said.

"How can you possibly feel that way about me—how can you love _me? _You don't even know me. What if all those things people say about me are true?"

I reeled back at that, anger snapping inside me. "I know you're sweet. I know you're a good person and you make me laugh. I know that you're the kind of guy who would never miss his friend's wedding, and who would find a way to be there for her without causing any drama. I know that you don't mind being around me and I'm pretty sure you like kissing me. I know that when you're holding me I feel like I'm home, and Edward, in 26 years I've never felt that way before… Whatever else there is, whatever you have or haven't done… it doesn't matter to me."

He stared at me, eyes wide and shocked. "You love me that much?"

_More. I love you so much more than that. _

But there was no way I could tell him that, so I gave him the truth I knew he could handle. I simply said, "Yes, I do."

"I can't help but think you deserve better."

Better? As if there was anything better. "I don't want anyone else." I caught my breath and bit my lip. "I want you."

"But why? Why do you want me to marry you? And don't just say it's because you love me; it takes more than love to want to marry someone."

"But I—I've already told you why."

"No you haven't, not really. Please Bella, you have to explain it to me. Tell me what you want."

I frowned at him. I had thought the hardest part was behind me but it wasn't true. How could I put into words exactly why I wanted him? There was nothing easily definable about it, nothing really sensible or obvious. It just was. I'd lain awake at night so many times trying to figure it out but that was always what it came down to.

"I feel comfortable with you," I said at last. "I'm positive that we could be happy together. And… the way you live appeals to me; I want to go kayaking with you in the middle of the night and watch the stars with you. I have dreams about that… I think a small part of me wants to do something that will shock my mom; I want to see the look on her face when I do something completely unpredictable." I was fully aware that I was babbling now, but I couldn't seem to stop myself. "I really don't want to go back to Charlie's. I need to feel like something's changed, like I haven't ended up right back where I started…. Mostly, I don't want to be lonely anymore."

"Thank you Bella," he said softly.

My head shot up at that. I was so confused; I didn't know what I'd been expecting but it certainly wasn't this. I had asked the impossible. I had told him _everything_. And Edward wasn't laughing, he wasn't running away, he wasn't looking at me like I'd lost my mind.

He wasn't saying no.

And the more time that passed, the more hopeful I began to feel that he wasn't going to.

"For what?" I asked cautiously. I was a little horrified that I'd said so much. I certainly hadn't meant to, but it was almost as if after never telling anyone anything, that I'd gotten drunk off of telling the truth. And small part of me knew that I would never be able to be this open with Edward again.

"For being honest," he answered. "I don't have much experience with that."

"I'll always be honest with you."

The tension seemed to leave the air around us with that. I felt more relaxed than I had since we'd come to the meadow. Edward was sitting so close beside me that I could feel the warmth radiating from him, and it calmed me. He reached for my hand again, his fingers closed firmly around my own.

"The truth is, I'm lonely too Bella." He stared off into the woods, his eyes distant and unfocused. The small, hopeful feeling inside my chest began to grow, though I tried to suppress it. "So, marriage huh? Are you planning on the big wedding and the fancy dress?"

"Please," I rolled my eyes, "after helping Alice I never want to hear the word 'wedding' ever again."

"I can imagine." I watched the smile leave Edward's eyes. "Before we do this you need to understand a few things about me." His tone was cool and serious. "There are things in my life that I don't want to share with you. I don't want to talk about them, not ever, not to anyone."

"That's fine."

"You have to promise you won't ever answer my cell phone or look at my email."

The little bubble in my chest was quickly becoming a balloon. "I promise I won't pry."

"I know this will probably sound like a contradiction after what I just said, but I need us to be honest with each other. I don't want us to pretend anything to each other, ever. If you ask me something I don't want to answer, I'm not going to lie to. Will you do the same for me?"

"Yes of course."

Edward gave me one last hard, appraising look. "I believe you." He shook his head, almost as if he couldn't believe he was really saying the words. "Okay then. Let's get married."

"Okay," I replied, my voice very small. Suddenly I was feeling more embarrassed than if he had said no.

I decided to adopt Edward's no-nonsense tone. There were still things I needed to make sure of before we did this. "I've written letters for Charlie and my mom explaining everything and telling them to talk to Dr. Thompson when… when it happens. Will you deliver them?"

"I will. And thank you; I don't want your father thinking I've poisoned your or anything."

I frowned at that, feeling a little guilty. I wasn't sure if my father would ever really trust Edward afterwards. I hated to think of the mess I was leaving behind.

"I know I've already asked for too much but there's one more thing," I began.

"What is it?"

"I need you to promise me that you'll forget I ever told you about my condition— just _forget, _absolutely forget that I'm going to die. I don't want you telling me I shouldn't do something or warning me to be careful. I never want to talk about it again."

"If you're sure?"

I nodded, feeling a little breathless that this was really happening. I put my hands on his shoulders, trying to steady my whirling thoughts. "Edward, before we go any further with this, there's two things I need to know." _For my own peace of mind._ "The first is, do you like being with me?"

Edward raised an eyebrow. "Yes."

I took that in. "Do you think you could be happy with me? Being married to me, I mean."

Edward didn't answer this question as quickly as he had the first. That was good, I wanted him to really think about it, to be sure of his answer before he sacrificed this for me. Finally, the softest smile playing on his lips, he cupped my cheek, tangling his fingers into my hair. Almost impulsively, he leaned forward to kiss the tip of my nose. "Yes Bella, I can be happy with you."

I exhaled, all the stress and guilt leaving me with those words. "Okay then," I said. "Let's go get a marriage license."

…

The walk back to Edward's car was as awkward as it had ever been between us. I kept shooting him sidelong glances only to find him staring straight ahead, a look of intense concentration on his face. I wanted to take his hand or at least move closer to him but I was unsure of how he would react to that.

I let myself acknowledge how messed up it all was—I'd certainly never imagined marrying a man a I was afraid of touching. But then, nothing was turning out like I'd envisioned as a wildly romantic teenager. _I _had proposed, and instead of a cute story that would make everyone go _awww_, it had sounded more like a business proposition. Mr. Darcy was a secretive, potential drug dealer/ serial killer (at least according to Renee), who didn't even love me. Was there anything more humiliating?

Well, as I'd been discovering lately, life isn't a book. Happy endings are not guaranteed, the hero isn't always heroic, the main character doesn't always get her soulmate. Shit happens and all you can do is make the best of it.

I was determined to make the best of it.

When I glanced again at Edward a little while later, a shaft of sunlight had fallen across his copper hair, causing the messy strands to gleam brilliantly; a pang of… something shot through me, strong and pulsing and wanting, reminding me of why I had fallen in love with him in the first place. I let myself hope that maybe it wouldn't always be awkward between us. Maybe later, when the shock had worn off, we could create something sweet and loving and _real _between us. Maybe it would better than any book.

…

I knew from helping Alice plan her own wedding that it took three days for a marriage license to become valid in the state of Washington. Edward and I decided that it was pointless to wait, so we drove straight from the meadow to the city offices in Port Angeles to get the paperwork started.

I glanced down at myself as I stepped out of Edward's Volvo, noticing that the hem of my jeans was badly stained with mud from the hike; I was wearing an old sweatshirt that Alice would have immediately thrown away if she'd found it in my closet. My shoes were caked with more mud, and there was probably grass in my hair.

Edward looked… well Edward always looked amazing, but his shoes and pants hadn't fared any better than mine had. He badly needed to shave, and his hair was a mess. He looked tired and pensive and I was sure my expression mirrored his. I told myself that it didn't really matter since we were just getting a license, but still, I wished I felt more confident.

The woman behind the desk beamed at us and murmured her congratulations, but she must have thought we were strange: we didn't laugh or hug or kiss, we didn't hold hands, we hardly even touched each other. I didn't look like a bride, I didn't even feel like one really. Our faces were serious, calm, determined; I was glad for that much at least, I didn't want to find any trace of hesitation in Edward's expression.

We sat silently on two uncomfortable metal chairs in a deserted hallway, and balanced the clipboard on our laps as we filled out the form. I peeked at the section Edward had completed in his firm, elegant handwriting, and saw that his full name was Edward Anthony Masen, he was born in California on June 20th, he was 29 years old, just a little over two years older than me. I wondered if he would have told me these things on his own if I'd asked or if they fell under the 'do not talk about' category.

Twenty minutes and 56 dollars later, Edward and I left the office, after setting up a time on Wednesday for the ceremony. In the bright sunlight I felt almost giddy. It was happening, I was really going to marry this man, become a part of his life. He was going to become part of mine…

After Wednesday my name would be Bella Masen.

Suddenly I felt dizzy, almost like I was going to throw up— not because it wasn't what I wanted, but because it suddenly seemed _too _real_. _What had been a vague faraway dream, a fantasy, was not so far away anymore. It was almost too much to comprehend.

When Edward pulled up across from Alice's apartment, I shyly touched his hand. "Thank you, so much— I know none of this is easy for you— just… thank you." It was a weak thank you for everything he was giving me, but it was all I could manage.

"You're welcome Bella," he replied. He reached across the console to open the door, his arm brushed against mine in a way that made my stomach clench. "I'll call you, okay?"

I nodded, smiling nervously, and said goodbye.

When I was halfway up the stairs a loud ringing sound made me jump in surprise, and I barely managed to keep from falling by grabbing hold of the railing. It took me a few seconds to realize that the sound was coming from my phone. With shaky fingers I pulled it out of my bag and glanced at the number.

"Mom?" I asked in surprise. I couldn't remember the last time she'd called me.

"Hi Bella," she said in that fake- cheerful voice of hers. I sighed quietly as I unlocked the door of the apartment, and quickly walked through the empty rooms to my bedroom. I collapsed face first onto the blow up mattress, suddenly so exhausted that I didn't even bother to kick off my shoes.

"Hey Mom, what's up?"

"Oh nothing really," she said vaguely. "I was just wondering… now that the wedding is over, if you're planning to come home? I thought you said that girl's—"

I rolled my eyes and interrupted her. "Alice, do you mean?"

She paused. "Yes… _Alice."_ I could hear the distaste in her voice. "I thought I heard you say that her lease was up in three days?"

"Yeah, it is."

Renee seemed to be waiting for me to say something. "So will you becoming home soon then?" she prompted.

_Home_.

My heart tugged painfully at the thought of it. I rolled over onto my back and closed my eyes, trying to imagine a place that I felt that way about. Unbidden, Edward's cottage flashed before me; it was such a dreamy, unreal place to me… but already I knew it was more home to me than anywhere I'd ever lived before.

"Bella? Did you hear me? Are you coming back?"

"I heard you," I answered, yanking myself back to the present. "I have a few more things to settle here… but yes, in three days I'll be home."

With Edward.

* * *

**I'm going to throw something out here, how do you feel about the next chapter in EPOV? It would probably be short and it wouldn't give very much away but it would provide a little insight as to his feelings for Bella. I dunno... I'm playing around with the idea. What do you think?**

**As always, review!**


	12. Chapter 12: Up to the Sky

**Author's Note: There are chapters that just flow… and then there are the chapters that, after banging your head on the desk for an hour, you're able to force out a couple sentences. Maybe. Suffice to say, this chapter was murder. I am SO sorry for the wait! Real life plus writer's block is really not a good combination. And so much happens in this chapter, I had to spend the time to get it right. Thank you for your patience!**

**However, this is the longest thing I've ever written though - hurrah! - so maybe that's something of a consolation ;-)**

**I'm so grateful to everyone who reviewed and gave me their opinion on the EPOV chapter. After much thought I've decided that this is Bella's story, not Edward's, and it's more important that we see this all from Bella's eyes. I'm pretty sure I will be writing a companion piece that will explore Edward's backstory, if people are interested anyway.**

**I apologize to the ones who wanted it, but the mystery that is Edward is going to live on a little longer.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 12: Up to the Sky

_This is the first day of my life  
I swear I was born right in the doorway  
I went out in the rain suddenly everything changed  
They're spreading blankets on the beach_

_Yours is the first face that I saw_  
_I think I was blind before I met you_  
_Now I don't know where I am_  
_I don't know where I've been_  
_But I know where I want to go_

-First Day of My Life, Bright Eyes

_~August~_

You would think I'd be better at the waiting.

Sometimes it seemed like I'd been doing it my whole life— waiting for something exciting to happen, for someone to love me, for a good reason to get up in the morning. I'd wasted so much time waiting for something big enough, amazing enough, to break up the monotony that the past five years of my life had been.

It hadn't been easy but I'd gotten used to it, good at it even; if I didn't think about the future, if I pretended that there was nothing ahead of me but the next ten minutes, the achy, uncomfortable, wanting feelings went away. I could survive… Most of the time. But all of that careful, practiced control had been shot to hell the moment Edward Masen said yes to my crazy, somewhat reckless proposal of marriage.

And now, the comparatively short two and half days I had to wait for the marriage license to become valid were the longest, most boring, most tedious days of my life. After almost 27 years, a mere sixty hours was enough to make me feel like I'd lost my mind. It was bizarre and unfamiliar, but all I knew was that I'd made up my mind, and now I was so close to getting what I wanted that I could practically touch it. I was done with burying my head in the sand and pretending that the future didn't exist. It did exist: it was Edward. I didn't want to wait anymore..

Edward called twice during those days, two very short, very awkward conversations that made my stomach twist and my palms sweat. I wondered if things would ever be easy between us again, if we could go back to that teasing, honest relationship we'd had before. At the same time, I sensed—even shared—his need for distance. I didn't want him to change his mind, but I didn't want him to make a rash decision that he would ultimately regret either. I wanted us both to have time to really think things through.

It sounded good in my head anyway, in practice however, I wasn't so sure. I'd always had a tendency to over think things, and while I was better at distracting myself during the long dull days, the nights were absolute torture. I lay in my dark, empty bedroom and I couldn't seem to do anything _but _obsess over every little thing. I imagined every scenario, all the things that could go wrong.

And even though I knew I shouldn't—had forbidden myself from doing so in fact… I couldn't help but wonder about Edward, about his secrets and his past, about how I would fit into his future. I thought about his need to stay private and wondered if it was wrong of me to hope that he'd let me in someday? Trust me enough to let down his guard and take off the mask?

But even as I thought it, the more rational part of me knew that he'd be safer keeping his barriers in place. He was right to ask for distance, both now and in the future. Opening up that side of himself, the side he didn't let anyone see, not even Alice, was too intimate, made him too vulnerable. It was cruel for me to want him to open himself up, knowing our relationship was anything but normal.

I couldn't ask him to give up any of his secrets. It wasn't fair.

To distract myself, I stayed as busy I could. I visited Charlie on Tuesday, and spent the whole afternoon in the kitchen cooking enough meals to last a couple weeks. I'd never been more grateful that he wasn't the type to pry when he didn't even lift an eyebrow at my unexplained appearance. He didn't ask me if was moving back or what my plans were like Renee would have done, just smiled and said it was great to see me.

I ended up staying for dinner when Charlie asked, mostly because I really didn't want to go back to Alice's empty apartment. It felt like the old days when we settled down on the couch to watch a game, easily falling into the same companionable silence as before; it suddenly hit me that this was probably the last time we'd ever share a moment like this. It made me appreciate the quiet, simple time more than ever would have otherwise.

With dawning amazement, I realized that I was never going back to Charlie's house. I was never going to another of Renee's tortuous dinners. The God-awful alarm clock beside my bed was never going jerk me out of a dead sleep at the crack of dawn again…

I ached even more for the hours to speed up.

The rest of my free time I filled with silly, stupid things. I did an inordinate amount of laundry while listening obsessively to Foster. I caught up on all the email I'd ignored in the craziness leading up to Alice's wedding, feeling very dutiful. I took a book down to a rocky beach, but instead of reading, I spent hours staring at the ocean.

I questioned every decision I'd made since that day in Dr. Thompson's office.

I questioned every selfish motivation, every hidden fear. I wondered if I was making the right choice, if I would regret this… or worse, if Edward would regret it. If my bizarre proposal was going to ruin everything.

I had no experience being impulsive, with trusting my gut and _believing _that everything happens for a reason… but I knew that if this had any chance of working, I would have to trust Edward, and more importantly, myself. And everything in me was telling me that this was the right decision.

…

I woke up on Wednesday morning after an uneasy, restless sleep; I'd tossed and turned most of the night, far too keyed up to sleep. It almost reminded me of how I'd felt on Christmas Eve when I was a little kid. How I knew something great was going to happen in the morning, and wanting nothing more than to sleep to make it come faster, but being too excited even to close my eyes.

It didn't surprise me that my wedding day was about a thousand times worse than Christmas.

I battled for most of the night with the need to talk to Edward; I wanted to know if he was feeling any of the nervous energy I was. Although, honestly it was mostly the thought of hearing Edward's calm, beautiful voice that kept me reaching for my phone. I'd restrained myself though, not wanting Edward to see how crazy I actually was.

I finally managed to fall asleep early in the morning, figuring that I'd at least be able to sleep in; still, it was barely eight when I finally gave up and threw the covers off me. I went through my typical morning of making tea and yogurt, although everything felt like mud in mouth. I forced myself to eat, then wasted as much time as I could stand on the internet.

After getting dressed, I wiped down the kitchen countertops for the last time, making sure all the cabinets and the refrigerator was empty. When that was done, I moved onto the bathroom, attacking the tile grout like it was my own personal demon.

Time seemed to crawl, but miraculously lunchtime came and went, and after forcing down a granola bar, I finally let myself go to my bedroom to begin packing. It was a pathetically small pile that I'd accumulated despite my shopping sprees with Alice, but I took my time, making sure everything was neatly folded. _God, I really hope I'm not becoming OCD or anything. _

Finally, when there really was no time left and nothing else to do, I went to the bathroom and got ready for Edward's arrival. I brushed my long hair out, put on some mascara and lip-gloss that Alice had taught me how to use… and when I was done, I carefully assessed myself in the mirror.

I could still remember the last time I'd stared at myself with such brutal calculation, though I didn't like to dwell on the wraith I'd been at the time. I wasn't nearly as skinny as I'd been then, and though I looked a little tired, there was actual color on my cheeks… and something else in my eyes. I looked nervous, expectant, maybe even a little happy. I wasn't the same woman who had been horrified by her own reflection three months ago.

When I was done in the bathroom, I opened my closet and took out the only thing still hanging there: the gray silk dress that Alice had given me. It had been there, untouched since I'd taken it out of its box. My wedding dress.

I didn't feel the least bit bride-like when I put it on. I smoothed my hands down over the fabric, so alien and strange to someone used to wearing jeans and a t-shirt, and hoped that Edward would like me in it.

He was right on time, and I was grateful for that, sure that even an extra five minutes and I'd have been a wreck.

I stood in front of the window and watched, feeling like a spy as he opened the Volvo door. He looked as serene and unruffled as ever, his hair was damp, like he'd just gotten out of the shower, and it reminded me of the first time I'd ever seen him. As he came closer, I realized that he'd shaved as well; I'd never seen his face completely bare before, but I found that I liked it, a lot actually. I wondered how it would feel to kiss him without his scruff. He was wearing a simple white long sleeved dress shirt, with the first couple buttons undone, and a pair of perfectly fitted gray flannel dress pants that made my stomach twist in unfamiliar ways. I couldn't wait to see him close up.

I stepped away from the window, taking one last look around the apartment to make sure I hadn't missed anything; I knew it was silly since I'd already checked at least ten times. My pulse started to pound in anticipation as I waited for Edward.

He didn't knock, but then, he never did. I secretly liked it that he was comfortable enough to continue the habit he'd begun with Alice. We smiled at each other nervously, or at least_ I_ was nervous. Edward's face was unreadable, neither happy nor apprehensive, just calm. He glanced down at the suitcase beside me, his brows creasing slightly.

"Is that all you have?" he asked, after saying hello.

"Yes." I didn't understand why it mattered. "All the rest of my stuff is at Charlie's… None of it's really that important."

"We can stop by there next week sometime. I don't want you not have everything you need…" He rubbed the back of his neck. "So are you all set?" I nodded.

Edward walked towards me, but instead of reaching for my suitcase like I expected, he stopped right in front of me, looking unsure of himself for the first time.

"Before we, uh, before we go, I got you something." He thrust a black velvet box out in front of me. My mouth dropped open in surprise… it looked a lot like a ring box.

"Edward—"

"Please," he interrupted. "It's really not a big deal." He quickly opened the box, revealing a beautiful, breathtakingly sparkly wedding band, set all the way around with small diamonds. I stared down at it, my heart doing funny things inside my chest; it wasn't gaudy or ugly or too much… it was actually pretty wonderful, but God, it had probably been really expensive!

"Edward," I said again, sputtering. "You really didn't have to…" I tried to say more but I couldn't, too overwhelmed by the sweetness of the gesture.

The tension inside Edward seemed to break. He grinned widely, reaching for my hand. "I know I didn't have to, I wanted to," he said softly, sliding the ring up my finger in a quick, gentle movement. It fit perfectly.

I stared down my hand for a few long seconds and then in spite of myself, I gave him a brilliant smile. "Thank you," I whispered, my throat too tight. "It's beautiful."

Edward's hand closed around my own. "You ready to do this?" he asked, his voice serious; I knew he wasn't just talking about leaving the apartment. "No second thoughts?"

I met his gaze steadily. "No. You?"

"Nope." He chuckled a little to himself, it was a disbelieving sort of chuckle, but there wasn't any fear in it. "Good. Then let's go do this thing."

…

An hour later Edward and I walked out of the courthouse; I was holding a piece of paper in my hand, trying not to crumple it, wanting it to stay smooth and perfect forever that said we were officially married.

The whole thing had happened so fast! Two random people—one a secretary on her break—acted as our witnesses, though passerby's kept sticking their heads into the room when they realized what we were doing. In front all those unfamiliar faces we'd said the words and signed the license, and because everyone was watching we'd kissed. And when it was over, the strangers shook our hands and congratulated us. One woman was actually crying when she hugged me; she said there was nothing as romantic as eloping.

It was all so surreal. I was suddenly glad for the ring on my finger, it made the whole thing feel more concrete. I could look down at it and remember what was happening and why.

Once we were finally out of the building, I pushed Edward up against the Volvo and kissed him again, but for me this time. Because he looked so damn good and because I couldn't believe it had all actually happened. Edward kissed me back, hungrily, his hands moving across my waist and bare arms, opening his mouth to mine, tasting divine.

That made it all seem more real too.

The kiss slowly became a hug, a long sweet hug that left me feeling warm and happy and taken care of. Edward's arms were tight around me, his fingers gently stroking my hair, pressing little kisses all across my forehead. I couldn't remember the last time I had simply been _held _and it was almost overwhelming, the feeling or relief and release it brought with it. I felt so safe in Edward's arms.

With a sigh, I finally pulled back a little, not ready to let him go completely. "What do we do now?" I asked quietly, smiling a little. I hadn't made any plans beyond signing the marriage license.

He shrugged, tightening his arms before stepping away. "I don't care."

"We could always go do something for dinner—I'm starving right now." I smiled sheepishly. "I was too nervous to eat all day."

"Dinner sounds good," Edward grinned.

"How about I cook? I'll make something fancy to celebrate."

"If you want to… but we should probably go to the grocery store first though; I'm not exactly sure what's in my refrigerator right now." He raised a brow. "Maybe it would be easier if we just went out to eat."

"No way!" I retorted, turning to open to car door. "I love cooking for people who actually like my food."

Edward scoffed. "Is it even possible for someone not to like your food?"

I laughed, feeling more lighthearted than I had since the day I'd made up my mind to move in with Alice. "My mother doesn't, but maybe that's because I only cook my Grandma Swan's recipes for her and Renee couldn't stand her."

I held Edward's hand in the grocery store, feeling almost smug; I wanted to yell at everyone that Edward was my husband, that he was_ mine_ now. We wandered aimlessly through the aisles, throwing anything that looked good into the cart while I quizzed him about what food was actually in his kitchen so I could stock up on the essentials.

When we came to the wine section, I paused dubiously. Was Edward one of those people who liked wine with dinner? I'd never actually seen him drink before, but wasn't that what most people did during a fancy, celebratory meal? I'd had wine at Renee's before but I had never liked the taste much, and I was pretty much clueless when it came to choosing the 'good' stuff.

I glanced helplessly at Edward. "Do you—"

"I don't drink," he said simply.

"Oh thank God," I exhaled in relief. "I don't know anything about wine. I never drink either."

"What was that at Mike Newton's party then?" he asked; I could see the twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

"One time thing," I answered, shortly, blushing even though I knew I had nothing to be embarrassed about. He laughed and wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me close against him, making me forget everything else.

…

I kept my eyes wide open during the drive to Edward's house, not wanting to miss anything, even though I already had a vague idea of where it was. It felt unreal to think that it would soon be _my_ house.

There wasn't much to see besides trees after we turned off the main road, though every once in a while a while I'd catch a glimpse of a house through the thick foliage. The non-winterized cabins were used mostly during the summer, so Edward and I probably wouldn't have very many neighbors once winter came.

Edward's cottage was the very last on the road. We drove up the circular driveway in front of a long, low building, painted a dark green that blended unobtrusively with the trees around it. The cottage was faintly Craftsman, but it looked like it had been added to and changed over the years until it resembled a whole hodgepodge of faded styles. The small front yard was weedy and neglected, ferns sprouted up everywhere.

The place had a slightly ramshackle air to it, but there were small signs of improvements: new windows, a fresh coat of paint on the door, a front stoop that wouldn't kill anyone in the dark. Edward got out of the car and opened my door; he looked a little nervous and uncertain and I smiled at him to reassure him.

I remembered Alice telling me that her grandfather had built the cottage in the 1930's as a summer retreat/ hunting getaway. Though he'd been a very rich man, I could tell that it was never meant to be grand or impressive. For that reason, without taking a step inside, I instantly loved it.

"No one had been here in years when I first moved in," Edward said. "It took me weeks just to clean it out enough to make it habitable."

"It's charming," I said truthfully. It was sweet, hidden away, private, a place to remove yourself from the rest of the world; I could see why it had appealed to Edward. Why it would appeal to anyone who wanted privacy.

The front door opened directly into one large great room that was both the living and dining room. Light flooded through the French doors on the other side, offering a tantalizing peek at the blue lake beyond, and warming up the room's wood paneling and worn fir floor. The furniture was an eclectic mix of consignment store chairs and couches and old antiques; I wondered how much of it had been in the cottage originally and how much Edward had brought with him. Everything had a faded, comfortable quality to it.

There were still signs that a young single man lived here though. A huge flat-screen was on one wall, surrounded by what looked like a very expensive sound system. The built in bookshelves tucked into a small alcove by the stairs were overflowing with books, CD's, and vinyl records; my fingers practically itched to look at them. It was pleasantly untidy, unpretentious and perfectly Edward.

It was perfectly me too.

Beyond the French doors was a huge screened-in porch, filled with what was probably the original wrought- iron furniture from Alice's grandfather's day. Three huge cedar trees shaded the gentle slope that led to the water. Edward gave me a quick tour of the rest of the cottage. There was a small, utilitarian relic of a kitchen in a 1970's addition, complete with peeling linoleum floors and crappy cabinets, redeemed only by huge windows on all three sides. The view from them was of more trees and a large newly built shed-like structure. A bathroom rounded out the main floor.

Things got a little awkward when Edward led me up the narrow rickety stairs to the cottage's only bedroom. I studiously ignored Edward's eyes as I looked around the small, bare room. There was a steep eave on one side, meaning the queen bed—carefully made up with an old quilt—could only fit if it was pushed right up beside the room's only window. There was a beautiful view of the lake, and I couldn't wait to see the sun rising in the mornings.

Once we were back in the safety of the downstairs again, I heard a soft meow coming from the direction of the porch. I looked down to see a tiny, buff colored cat padding towards us, her long tail pointing straight up into the air. She reminded me of a mountain lion, tough and sleek, though she was the smallest cat I'd ever seen. She strode immediately to Edward, rubbing herself affectionately around his legs. He reached down and picked her up, cradling her in his arms like she was a newborn baby. I had never seen the expression on his face, full of contentment and love as he smiled down at her. Alice had been right to give Edward the kitten, but then she usually was.

"This must be Claire. I was wondering why I hadn't seen her."

"Yep. This is her," he smiled. "She's an indoor cat but she finds a lot of places to hide. She was probably on the porch." She reached up with one paw and batted at his nose as he bent down to kiss her, and I felt my heart melt a little at the sight.

"I love cats," I smiled, reaching out to scratch Claire behind the ear, but before I could touch her, she stiffened, recoiling away from me. With one huge hiss, she twisted herself out of Edward's arms and was gone, scampering up the stairs.

Edward sighed, rubbing the spot on his wrist where Claire had scratched him a little. I stared up him, shocked and apologetic. "I'm so sorry!" I should have known Edward's cat would hate me.

He shrugged, totally unconcerned. "I told you she's crazy."

I shifted uneasily. "Well, I don't know about you but I'm starving, I think I'll go make some dinner." Edward looked enthusiastic about that, and while he went to get the groceries out of the car, I went back to the kitchen to see what I had to work with; Edward had been very vague on the subject.

It wasn't as bad as I feared though the old gas stove was pretty scary. At least the essentials were all there—pots and pans and things, and I'd work on filling up the pantry over the next couple weeks. But when I opened up the freezer, my eyes opened wide at all the boxes of hot pockets in there; no wonder Edward loved my cooking if he was eating that crap on a regular basis.

Edward watched me, seemingly fascinated, as I cooked. He offered to help but I told him if he did the dishes than I had no problem preparing the meal by myself. I preferred it that way actually, since there was no dishwasher.

We ate on the porch. It was the most relaxed, best tasting meal that I'd had in as long as I could remember. It had been raining in the morning, but after lunch the clouds thinned and the sun appeared; the lake looked gorgeous I the light. I couldn't believe that at this time mere months ago I would have been in Charlie's dark kitchen, sitting silently across from him while he ate his dinner and I pecked at mine restlessly. Then he would go off to the living room with a can of beer to watch the game and I would go upstairs and do… what did I even do back then? I couldn't remember.

I read a lot. I dreamed a lot. I closed my eyes and imagined myself anywhere but in my cold, boring bedroom, and those dreams had felt more real than all the "real" days I'd lived. And now, sitting on Edward's porch, I could say with absolute honesty that the present, with him sitting across from me, was better than any of those dreams.

After dinner I kicked off my flats and Edward and I walked down to the dock. It was a warm evening, slightly humid but not oppressively so; there was a gorgeous sunset of gold and red and pink clouds visible over the trees. I stood there for a long time, just holding Edward's hand. Every now and then, I would look up at him and smile and every time I did I found Edward watching me, a curious expression on his face. But he was happy too, I could tell that.

I hoped he realized now that I could fit into his life here.

"How do you ever leave?" I asked after a long while. "How do you ever go back to the real world?"

He shrugged. "It's hard… but maybe it makes coming back so much easier, I appreciate it more. It's the one place I always felt like I could be myself. "

I nodded, understanding that. I let go of his hand to reach down and dip my fingers into the impossibly clear, strangely green-blue tinted water; it was cool and it felt good on my overheated skin. Suddenly I felt exhilarated, happy, fierce… nervous. I stood up, grinning at Edward who was still watching me like I was some wild, unpredictable creature.

With a laugh I stood and did a running jump off of the dock. Alice would have cried in horror if she'd seen it—or maybe she would have punched me— since I was still wearing my grey silk dress. But I didn't care, it was my wedding dress after all and I was only ever going to wear it once.

The cool water was shocking, but it felt so good. I let myself sink, staying under for longer than I needed to, just loving the feel of total immersion, of silent weightless floating. It was odd, still wearing the dress; I felt heavier than I was used to, and less free to move since the fabric stuck to my body like a second skin.

When I surfaced, the first thing I saw was Edward's legs, encased in those damn, tempting grey pants, then his white shirt, the sleeves of which were now pushed up to his elbows, revealing the pale muscles of his forearms. It was an irresistible sight.

"Do you swim a lot?" I asked, treading water.

"Every morning," he answered. His eyes were smiling.

"_Every _morning? Even in the winter? Doesn't it get really cold?"

He shrugged. "It wakes me up," his eyes sparkled. "Really gets the blood flowing… You can join me if you like."

"Hmmm," I answered, pretending that I was seriously thinking about it. In actuality, the thought of dunking myself in freezing water every morning made me shudder; I fully intended on spending my mornings sleeping in.

"How about you join me now?" I asked quietly, a little shocked the bold invitation in my voice, but I couldn't help myself.

He stared down at me, a wry, challenging expression on his face. Without a word, he took a step back and bent down to unlace his shoes and pull off his socks; I watched in abject fascination as he quickly shed his shirt, trying not to blush as every new section of skin was revealed. He was pale… and gorgeous. All that swimming had paid off because he looked like the statue of David, only sculpted of real living flesh not marble.

I found myself staring at his hipbones, showed to glorious advantage by the gray flannel, and then down to his feet, which were somehow even more intimate than his bare chest.

Edward didn't take his eyes off of me as jumped, smooth and graceful, landing with a splash just a foot away from me. I felt his arms snake around my waist, holding me tightly to his body as he surfaced.

_Don't let go of me, _I wanted to say to him._ Don't ever let go of me._

Our legs tangled together as we kicked to keep from sinking; I turned in his arms until we were face to face and dragged my hands up and down his bare back, delighting in the purse sensation of it. The chemistry between us was palpable, charged and electric and irresistible. I twisted my fingers into his hair, leaning forward to kiss the hard edge of his jaw.

"Thank you," I murmured against his neck because it was the only thing I could say. Without him I never would have felt anything remotely like this, would still be lonely and alone and half- dead inside. And maybe I wasn't capable of it, but I wanted to give Edward everything he ever wanted in return.

We stayed in the lake for a long time. I watched Edward for as long as I could stand, mesmerized at the smooth way his body cut through the water. When I couldn't take it anymore, lay on my back and just floated, watching as the pinks and oranges in the sky deepened, until the sun was completely lost behind the mountains.

Together in the fading light, Edward and I waded out of the water. I shivered as the wind blew across my wet skin, suddenly cold and incredibly conscious of my body. In the water I'd free and confident, sexy even. Now, I just felt like a bedraggled cat.

"Is it okay if I take a shower?" I asked, folding my arms across my chest as we made our way back up to the cottage. Pine needles and dirt stuck to my wet feet and my dress kept dripping not matter how hard I tried to wring the water out.

"Of course."

Edward showed me the outside tap where I could rinse off my feet, and the stash of towels he kept on the porch. I thanked him and then hurried into the bathroom. I'd brought my suitcase in with me, not wanting the awkwardness of having to dig through it to get what I needed in front of Edward.

It was a relatively big bathroom, original to the cottage—there was a large pedestal sink, faded mosaic black and white hexagonal floor tiles, and a huge old-fashioned claw foot tub. A few modern additions had been made, like the metal corner shower, and a stacked washing machine and dryer, but the rest of it was probably the way it had been in Alice's grandfather's day.

I grabbed my shampoo and conditioner from my suitcase and quickly peeled out of my dress and underwear. The shower was narrow and the water was loud against the metal walls, but there was nothing like the feel of the warm spray against my cool skin.

I'd intended to take a quick shower but I found that once I was in there I didn't want to leave. The heat felt so good, so soothing against my tense muscles, but it didn't last. I knew it wouldn't. When I started to shiver despite the heat I turned off the water and wrapped one of Edward's towels around me, furiously drying myself… as if that would somehow make my sudden attack of nervousness go away.

It didn't. I pulled my favorite plushy bathrobe out of my suitcase and shrugged it on, then perched on the rim of the old-fashioned tub. Outside, it was completely dark… and the feelings I'd been able to push away in the sunlight only came back ten times stronger when the sun went down. I let my head fall into my hands, and tried and failed to curb the edgy, nervous, jittery energy from taking over.

I'd known from the first second I'd woken up in the morning that this would be the hardest part of the day ahead.

It wasn't leaving Alice's apartment.

It wasn't going to the courthouse and signing that marriage certificate, making everything legal, becoming someone's wife.

It wasn't cooking dinner, or introducing myself to the cat , or wondering where my books would go in that already overcrowded bookcase.

It was _now. _It was walking out of the bathroom and going to Edward and somehow asking him to make love to me.

We'd never actually discussed it—and fuck, we should have, but it had seemed like such a foregone conclusion in the beginning… the electricity and wanting that had snapped between us in the lake was proof enough of how we both felt. Maybe it had just been easier not to ask that question, or maybe we were both just waiting for the other one to make the first move.

And God, I wanted to make that move, I really did. I'd wanted it from the first second I'd seen Edward, even if I hadn't realized it at the time. I might have been an almost 27-year-old virgin, but I wasn't an idiot, I knew exactly what sex entailed, and I would by lying if I said it wasn't one of the things I most looked forward to about marrying Edward. I would have wanted that kind of relationship with him even if he'd said no when I asked him to marry me.

It seemed like the easiest thing in the world to take that step when I was in Edward's arms and he was kissing me. When it was spontaneous and I was swept up in sensation and wanting. But alone, cold and naked in the bathroom… I was afraid.

I was afraid that it would hurt— but that was minor compared to the fear that I wouldn't be good enough for Edward, that my inexperience would make me hopeless, that I wouldn't be able to satisfy him. I could just imagine how many women had thrown themselves at him, beautiful, experienced, self-confident women who could give him everything he wanted. How could I possibly compare to them?

I wanted to be like that. I wanted to be like Rosalie who commanded attention wherever she went, who made a man feel amazing for just deigning to look at him. I was going to have to work so much harder with Edward.

And there was another less vocal but far more terrified part of me that was afraid that I would die when I saw him, that when he touched me my heart would explode.

I scrubbed my shaking fingers across my face, willing myself to stop being such a child about the whole thing. _There's no reason to fall to pieces Bella—it's just sex! And you're practically 27 years old for crying out loud! _

There was a sudden soft knocking sound at the door. I started and almost lost my balance, but managed to catch myself at the last second before I fell into the tub. I wet my dry lips. "Yes?" I answered.

"Bella?" Edward called softly. "Are you okay?"

Great. The last thing in the world that I wanted was for Edward to witness my mini meltdown. I never could have imagined how grateful I'd be for a closed bathroom door on my wedding night. There was something so wrong about that.

"I'm fine," I called to him, my voice cracking slightly. "I'll be out in a couple minutes." I glanced down at my open suitcase and almost groaned. There was another problem, what the hell was I supposed to _wear? _My favorite comfy flannel pajama pants? Sexy lingerie? Jeans and a t-shirt?

I could hear Edward moving outside the bathroom, and I wondered why he wasn't leaving. Was I hogging the bathroom or something? But when he spoke again, he didn't sound hurried or pissed, just sort of quiet and reassuring, like maybe he understood how I was feeling. "You can talk to me you know."

I thought about, wondering if that would really be such a difficult thing, even about such an embarrassing subject. I'd never had someone that I could just _talk _to before; Charlie wasn't exactly a big conversationalist, especially when it came to the important stuff, and you didn't discuss anything with Renee unless you wanted to sit through a lecture. Even with Alice I'd kept my distance, not wanting to burden her with all my shit. As pathetic as it was, Edward knew more about me than anyone… and I wanted him to know everything.

I took a deep breath, making sure that my robe was securely fastened as I went to the door and opened it. Edward was leaning against the doorjamb, his arms folded across his chest. He'd changed into a pair of loose fitting jeans and a black t-shirt, and he looked causal and perfect; I hated that he could be so composed when I was feeling like such a wreck.

Edward straightened as soon as he saw me, his gaze shooting straight to all the exposed areas of my skin. My face burned with embarrassment. _Brilliant idea as usual Bella, confront Edward wearing nothing but a piece of terry cloth… well, at least it covers everything. _

"We should probably talk about some things." I backed away into the bathroom, and resumed my place on the edge of the tub. Edward stood uncertainly in the doorway.

"Are you nervous?" he asked quietly, his gaze questioning.

"Yes," I answered straightaway. "I know it's stupid but I am."

"Hey, honesty remember?" He came to me and sat down beside me, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. I turned to him, burying my face in his neck, letting his scent soothe me.

I was afraid I was going to do something stupid like blurt it all out. My face was crimson, I could feel the heat all the way to the tips of my ears. "Well… it's just the wedding night and stuff." _Please understand my cryptic, juvenile references._

I saw Edward raise an eyebrow. "Do you not want to?"

"No! No, I definitely do. There's something I should probably tell you first." My blush deepened, burning across my skin. "It's just… well… this is really awkward," I began, but Edward interrupted me.

"You've never had sex before," he finished for me, his voice very matter of fact.

My jaw dropped open a little. "Is it that obvious?" I managed to squeak, mortified. I had hoped that my inexperience wasn't _that _transparent. Wishful thinking.

Edward just shrugged, ignoring that question so he could ask one of his own. "What I don't understand is why?"

"Why?" I repeated dumbly, not sure what he could possibly mean.

"You're wonderful. I don't understand how no one ever figured that out before."

"I just never met anyone," I answered, blushing like crazy. "If I had met someone… that I felt that way about, then yeah, I would have done it. But I never did…"

God, what a mortifying conversation. Just kill me now.

"You don't have to be scared. I don't care about any of that stuff. This is going to work. I promise you."

I nodded, needing so much to believe his words. His fingers slid across my cheek, his eyes burned into mine and I knew that he was looking for any sign of hesitation. But I wouldn't give it to him—I was scared, yes, but I loved him more than any uncertainty I could ever feel. And I wanted him.

"I want to go slow with you Bella." He sighed, touching his thumb to the corner of my mouth. "I want to take care of you."

He leaned forward, his lips brushing ever so lightly against my own. We stayed like that for a long time, exploring, learning each other until there was nothing but him and me and the moment. I knew I was losing myself in it.

Edward was kissing me like he meant it, like he wanted to… like he wanted _me. _

_Don't let go of me. Don't let go of me. Don't let go of me. _

I pushed at his shoulders. "Let's go upstairs."

…

I wasn't nervous at all anymore.

I had known it would be like this, but then, it always was. Reality had a funny way of slipping away whenever Edward touched me.

And oh my god—reality was about a hundred miles away at the moment. Stuff was happening. Stuff was most definitely happening. I pulled away for air and Edward's lips moved immediately to my neck, pressing against all the tender places there. Places I hadn't even known existed, would never have known existed if it weren't for him. My head fell to the side, granting him better access as his tongue dragged across my skin.

I wanted to learn him the way he was slowly learning me. I wanted to explore every inch of his skin until I knew by heart all the spots that drove him crazy, every small mark, every freckle. A slow smile spread across my face, knowing that I had months and months where I'd be able to do just that.

And Edward touched me, kissed me; the small sounds he made reverberated all through my body. They made me feel confident, powerful.

He made me feel beautiful.

I forgot everything in Edward's arms. I gave myself over to his touches and his kisses, to the indescribable feeling of bare skin on bare skin. I forgot everything, that it was my first time, that my entire life was changing. I forgot my past, my future, I even forgot my name. I wasn't Bella Swan anymore. And there wasn't a single fragment inside of me that didn't need him.

"Edward," I whispered because his name was the only thing I was capable of saying. All my words had been driven out of me with that first searing kiss. And he gave me my own name back, his voice deep and urgent. I drank it in.

He hovered over me like I was some fragile, delicate thing, one arm curved under my shoulder blade, his other hand flat against my heart, feeling it race beneath him—because of him.

His eyes asked all the questions, the things I wouldn't let him say aloud. _Are you okay? Is this too much for you? Am I hurting you? Can you do this?_ His eyes burned into mine… and I realized that he had never looked more beautiful to me than in this moment. His hair tousled, his skin flushed, lips red and swollen from our kisses, the long perfect lines of his neck and shoulders, the feel of his smooth skin underneath my fingertips…

I answered him the same way he'd asked; with my eyes I told him that I wanted this, that he was perfect, that there was never any going back from this. I smiled, a slow soft smile and reached up to pull him closer, wondering if I would ever be satisfied that he was close enough. He kissed me back, his mouth just as insistent as mine.

And he was unbearably slow, impossibly sweet. I almost wanted time to freeze so I could stay in this perfect moment forever.

But of course it couldn't. And that was okay too.

…

I woke up a long time later. The bedroom was dark but I wasn't disoriented; I knew exactly where I was and who lay beside me, so close that our legs tangled together beneath the blankets. I stretched, cautiously so that I wouldn't wake Edward, marveling over the delicious warmth of his body.

I was so used to waking up curled in on myself, never quite warm enough despite my comforter—winters especially were my own personal hell. And now, I sprawled on my back, warm and comfortable. I couldn't remember ever feeling so comfortable.

Bright moonlight filled the room, falling directly across Edward's face, turning his pale skin silver; he looked so relaxed He turned a little in his sleep, moving closer so that he could nuzzle my shoulder. I watched him for a long time, my heart feeling very full.

I could have looked at Edward for hours, but I suddenly felt something warm and solid against my knee. I looked down to see that Edward's cat had come out of hiding and was curled up right next to me. I snaked my hand down to scratch Claire's chin, hoping that she wouldn't hiss or run away this time. But when I touched her a loud purr erupted from her chest as her eyes opened into little slits. She gave my knuckles a light nudge, then lowered her head to go back to sleep.

I wanted to laugh. For so long I'd wanted to become someone else. I wanted to be brave, beautiful, successful, and proud of myself. I wanted to peel away my skin and turn into another person because I could find nothing redeemable about being Bella Swan. I hated my shyness, my hesitancy, I hated how I always had to over think everything. I hated how it held me back.

The past months had been so much about change, and sometimes it felt like such a dream, like I was going to wake up and be right back in that narrow bed at Charlie's house. But a strange thing had happened in the midst of the changes—instead of losing myself, I'd ended up _finding_ myself.

I'd been brave. I'd fought for what I'd wanted. And now I felt more like me than I had in such a long time. I knew now that I could do this, that I didn't have to be afraid, that the next nine months didn't have to be about death, they could be about life and love and being happy.

And I felt so good because I knew that I could be enough for Edward; I didn't have to feel guilty for asking so much of him, I didn't have to be fearful that he would regret this. It didn't have to be a sacrifice, not for either of us.

Edward shifted again in his sleep, lifting his arm to wrap it around me, pulling me close against him. I closed my eyes and sighed, moving to press my lips very lightly across his collarbones.

_Don't you dare let me go Edward Masen. Don't you dare. _

* * *

**If anyone was expecting something more lemony—sorry. Can't do it, I find the whole thing way too awkward! In another L.M Montgomery book, she said something like never write something you wouldn't want read at your own funeral. That stuck with me. (Grandma, anyone?) I know you all have wonderful imaginations, and God knows, there's already enough fan-fic smut out there ;-)**

**The lake that Edward lives on is made up, though it's based on Lake Crescent (has anyone been there? –gorgeous!). I moved Edward's lake closer to Forks.**

**Pictures of Bella's ring are on my profile.**

**So, who's seen Remember Me? I saw it last week and… wow. Rob was charming and awesome and I got a little teary-eyed at the end, which is absolutely unheard of for me. Currently the only thing these days that gets me crying are those Humane Society commercials - you know the ones I mean. Anyway, if you haven't seen it yet, GO, you're missing out!**

**As always, thank you for reading and please leave a review. I'd love to know what you think ;-)**


	13. Chapter 13: Shooting Stars

**Author's Note: I know, I know, I've been total fail at replying to reviews for the last couple chapters, but seriously, they leave me so amazed and overwhelmed, I literally don't know what to say in response. You guys are the best, sweetest, most articulate reviewers out there! I can't promise to always respond (real commitments suck at the moment) but I will do my best ;-)**

**But please know that I read every single review, and love each and every one. THANK YOU!**

**I'll still always answer any questions you have, and if you really want to chat, just send me a PM. **

**Also, just to reassure a couple people, there will be no pregnancy in this story. Edward and Bella are being totally safe!**

* * *

Chapter Thirteen: Shooting Stars

_When I am at the pearly gates  
This'll be on my videotape  
My videotape  
My videotape__  
_

_Mephistopheles is just beneath_  
_And he's reaching up to grab me_  
…

_But no matter what happens now_  
_I won't be afraid_  
_Because I know_  
_Today has been the most perfect day I've ever seen_

-Videotape, Radiohead

_~August~_

_What am I doing?_ I sighed wistfully, wincing at the foreign roar of my truck as I turned the key in the ignition. It had only been two days but I'd forgotten the unnatural sounds my vehicle was capable of making. _I should have put this off until tomorrow. _I told myself for the hundredth time. _I should have stayed with Edward… _

I glanced up at my rearview mirror just in time to catch sight of his motorcycle disappearing down the street, watching until I couldn't see him any more. Unconsciously, my hand reached across the seat to the shiny black helmet lying beside me, feeling the same thrill I'd gotten when Edward had unceremoniously handed it to me and asked if it fit okay. I couldn't believe that he had actually bought me my own helmet; it meant he planned on taking me riding. Possibly very often.

I felt another wave of longing to follow Edward back to the cottage, lock the door, and pick up where we'd left off. But as much as I wanted to, it really wasn't possible. Another sigh threatened to escape when thought of the sixty-five missed calls on my cell phone, fifty-nine of them from my mother; I'd managed to listen to one screeching message before I'd turned the thing off and contemplated throwing it into the lake. I would have done it, but the last six calls were from Charlie and I knew Renee was fully capable of making him file a missing person's report, and the last thing I needed was for Edward to get accused of kidnapping me.

It was time to bite the proverbial bullet and get it over with. My parents had to find out that I was married someday—and the sooner I told them, the sooner I could go back home.

_Home. _

A little flush of pleasure rippled through me at the thought of it. If I had known during those three god-awful days of waiting that I had nothing to be afraid of, that the reality of living with Edward would be even better than any fantasy I might have imagined, it would have saved me a lot of sleepless nights. I wasn't exactly sure why Edward had chosen to marry me, but whatever the reason was—pity, friendship, attraction, a protective instinct or maybe a combination of all these things—I was glad of it.

Not to say that there weren't little awkward moments between us as we figured out the intricacies of living with each other; how much _together _was too much, how much distance we needed, how much to ask for, how much to want. It all took getting used to.

I remembered waking up with Edward that first morning, feeling comfortable and sated, and a little nervous. My head had drifted onto Edward's shoulder sometime during the night and as soon as I realized what I was doing I pulled away, feeling my face turn bright crimson. I remembered how he had smiled at me, his hair all disheveled, his eyes still glazed over with sleep. The first time he moved, his cat climbed right up onto his chest and just lay there purring for ten minutes straight. I remembered how Edward had caught my gaze and how we both laughed at how silly and perfect it all was.

I felt strangely light during the remainder of the drive despite the unpleasantness I knew awaited me. I'd seriously hesitated before I'd asked them both to meet me so I could share my news; having Charlie and Renee in the same room together rarely ended well, but I hadn't wanted to have what promised to be a very uncomfortable conversation any more than I absolutely had to. I was reasonably sure that they would be too upset with me to start sniping at each other, as was their habit. I hoped so anyway.

But however my parents reacted, whatever they said, it really didn't matter. As far as I was concerned, this was a formality only.

When I pulled up to Charlie's house, I saw Renee's Subaru already parked in the driveway. I wondered when my mother had last been to the house she'd run away from a scant two years after I was born, but for all I knew it was her first visit since she'd moved back to Forks. She wouldn't find it very different however; the walls were still the same color, the furniture hadn't been changed, the same pictures still hung on the walls, aside from the ones of me that had been added throughout the years. I wondered if she'd think it was sad… or if she'd even notice at all.

My parents were standing in the living room when I entered, arms crossed and facing each other with cold looks on their faces. At least, Renee's stare was cold; Charlie's expression was carefully blank, just as it always was when he was with her.

Renee's face fell with relief when she saw me, her eyes flicking up and down to make sure I wasn't missing any limbs. Charlie caught my eye and gave me a small smile before my mother started in on me, her cheeks flushing red with anger.

"Where have you been Isabella?" Renee yelled, latching onto my arm with an iron grip. She continued before I could answer. "Do you have any idea of how worried we've been about you— I called and called and you never answered your phone!"

"I—"

She cut me off. "I don't know where your head has been lately, but ends right now. You're not putting me through this anymore; you're coming home."

"Mom," I said as calmly as I could manage, gently prying her fingers off me. "I'm sorry I didn't call; it slipped my mind."

She glared at me. "Slipped your mind? That isn't at all like you."

I didn't answer her. I felt amazingly calm, poised, confident; everything I'd wanted to be two days ago, everything that Edward had been. I wanted to tell them now, while I still had that feeling. "I have some really big news," I began, taking a deep bracing breath as I prepared myself for Renee's anger and Charlie's look of quite disappointment. My heart was racing, but from happiness instead of fear.

"I got married."

My mother stared at me, all the color draining from her face. "_What _did you say?_"_

"I got married," I repeated slowly. "At the court house in Port Angeles. Two days ago. To Edward Masen." The hugest, silliest grin spread across my face; it was probably massively inappropriate but I couldn't help myself. I watched my parent's reactions feeling more amused at their looks of horror than anything else. Renee sputtered wordlessly, unable to say anything, as Charlie cleared his throat, his eyes huge.

"Please tell me that this is some sort of sick joke," Renee choked out. "Isabella Marie Swan if you really…"

"Masen," I interrupted. "My name is Bella Masen now… well, not officially I guess, but it might as well be. I like the way it sounds."

My smile widened as I said my new name out loud; it was the first time I'd ever done so.

"Masen," Renee whispered her voice miniscule. "What on earth have you done?" She stared at me as if all her worst fears had come true and I'd finally gone crazy. Maybe I had.

"Do you want me to say it again so it sinks in? I will. Actually sometimes I feel like I want to scream it out loud." I spoke slowly, carefully enunciating each word: "I. Got. Married."

That was enough to break through my mother's shocked incoherency and she snapped instantly back to life. "To _him? _Oh God, how many times did I tell you that getting married is a huge decision? You have to be sure or could end up being the worst mistake you'll ever make. I knew letting you move in with that—that _girl_ was a bad idea!" She whirled on Charlie. "Do something!"

"What am I supposed to do?" he frowned at her. "I can't arrest him for marrying my daughter. Look, I'm not any more thrilled about this than you are, but if Bella really… she _is_ an adult now…" he trailed, visibly shrinking under the venomous look Renee shot him. He turned back towards me. "Are you sure Bells? What do you really know about him?"

I smiled at him reassuringly. "I know everything I need to. Please, I don't want you guys to worry about me, I'm happy. Happier than I've been in a really, really long time."

"He's a criminal," Renee shot coldly.

"I don't believe he is."

"Because you're a naïve little girl—can't you see what's happened to you? He's deceiving you Isabella, using you, for God knows what reason, but he _is_." She shook her head angrily. "You used to be so rational—"

"You mean I used to be _miserable_." I sighed. "I did what you wanted for 27 years Mom, I can't do it anymore. I have to live my own life."

"I never..." she was so flustered that she couldn't even finish the sentence. "I want what's best for you, just as I always have. Can't you see what's going to happen? That…man is going to hurt you. He's going to break your heart and then you'll come crawling back here."

"Well, that's _my_ problem then, isn't it?"

She ignored me. "This is headed nowhere good. Don't be stupid Isabella, come home! Charlie and I can take care of you."

I could have told her that I had never felt taken care of; not when we lived in a succession of tiny apartments after leaving Charlie, not when I moved back to Forks without her, not when she had asked me to move in with her out of guilt. But I didn't. I wasn't here today to fight.

I stared at her for a long time, studying the face that everyone said was so similar to my own. When I was younger I'd thought she was beautiful, bright and vibrant and soft. These days, the makeup she'd never worn before was always carefully applied and her hair always carefully 'styled' before she left the bathroom every morning, even if no one but Phil was there to see her. She worked hard on her appearance, but there were still lines around her eyes and mouth—wrinkles I would never see on my own face. It was like looking at an older, unhappier version of myself; I wondered what decisions she'd made to give her such a remote, cold look. Did she have any regrets?

I stared at her so long that she flushed and grew uncomfortable.

Finally I spoke. "I never understood why you couldn't just be happy for me, why whatever decision I made was never good enough for you. Moving in with Alice wasn't the worst thing I could've done, but you had to send Phil after me like I was some sort of runaway. Was it just because I did it without your approval? Was that why you were so upset—why you're so upset now?"

"Is it really so wrong for me to want to be involved in your life? You didn't even tell me that you knew Edward Masen, let alone that you wanted to marry him!"

"Because it was none of your business."

"Bells, we're just worried about you," my father cut in before Renee could reply to that. "We don't want to see you get hurt, and whichever way you look at it, this Edward doesn't have a good reputation. One thing I've learned is that where there's smoke there's usually fire."

"I'm okay," I smiled, reaching out to touch his arm. "I know that he's a good person."

"You won't change your mind?" I shook my head. "Well then, as you long as you choose to go through with this… insane idea…" Renee's voice was very cold, "I don't know what kind of relationship we can have."

My eyes shot to hers, assessing the cool determination in them. "That's fine," I shrugged. I wouldn't play her game; I wouldn't allow her to force me to choose between her and Edward. I would choose him, every time. Maybe it sounded awful, but I felt so… over my mother's drama. I just wanted to get back to Edward. "I'll just go upstairs and get a few things from my room."

Renee opened the front door at the same time that I started walking up the stairs. I sighed. _Bye Mom. _

As I climbed up to the second floor, I noticed the dust accumulating in corners and on flat surfaces; Charlie was going to have to clean soon or it would begin to look like no one lived here. My old bedroom looked exactly as it had the last time I'd been inside it, the day I'd packed my things for the move to Alice's. Faded blue walls, the narrow, haphazardly made bed, a stack of books on the floor beside the nightstand that I'd never gotten around to reading…

I stood in the doorway for a few long minutes, absorbing the forgotten, cold atmosphere of the room. It was nothing like the warm comfort of Edward's cabin, and the difference felt particularly striking at the moment.

I sat down on the bed and cast around for the things I wanted to take with me. I'd only had the vague notion of getting everything I might need for the next nine months so I wouldn't be forced into this room again, but suddenly, now that I was here, nothing seemed important enough. The knick-knacks on top of the bureau, the posters on the walls, the junk inside the antique desk— it was all just… clutter. Finally, I opened up my closet and pulled out my winter clothes, jackets and boots from the closet, stuffing them into an old duffel bag.

I wandered over to my bookcase, scanning the shelves for my favorite novels, the kind you buy in hardcover and have to read at least once a year because they're so good; it would be nice to read them again in the winter. I picked out a couple and carefully tucked them in on top of the clothes.

At last, my gaze fell on the old Mead notebooks and spiral bound journals crammed onto the bottom shelf. I could almost see the pages filled with my nearly illegible handwritten scrawl. Once upon a time, these notebooks had been the most important things in my life.

When had it all changed? When had I stopped carrying one around with me everywhere, choosing to keep the stories only inside my head? For most of my adolescence I was convinced I would be a writer someday… that _my _novels would sit on the shelf alongside my favorites.

I'd always been so good at living inside my mind, at closing my eyes and ears and retreating from the 'real world.' One of the easiest ways I'd found do that was to imagine a different world, one where the heroine was spunky and the guy needed her… needed her the way no one had ever needed me. It was easy lose myself in dreams of blue castles and that gorgeous, dusky hour before twilight.

Writing down these dreams had seemed like a natural extension to me at the time. So what if I couldn't quite capture the essence of the fantasy in my head? So what if I didn't really know what love felt like, if I wasn't sure that such a thing as 'soul mate' existed? My stories had very little to do with reality; they were an escape.

I remembered how Renee had frowned at me every time she'd seen me scribbling away in one of my journals, how she'd tried to get me to join the soccer team or the debate club. _Writers don't make much money Isabella, why don't you stick to a more realistic career? _She'd said. _You have to start thinking about your future._

Even Charlie had looked a little dubious when I'd confessed my secret desire to him when I was thirteen years old. Writing was… different. It wasn't stable or conventional, and not being a big reader himself, he didn't understand why I would want to subject myself to something so different.

When had it all changed, I asked myself again. When I'd gone to college and experienced the most debilitating writer's block in my life? When I began to realize that life is nothing like a book and there is no such thing as neat, tied up endings? For whatever reason, I'd given up; I still escaped into different worlds at night before I fell asleep—I'd had to—but I'd stopped carrying around those notebooks. I'd stopped writing.

Sometimes I wondered why it had been so easy to do; I kept waiting for the writer's block to go away, for my fingers to feel that familiar itch to pick up a pen but I didn't happen. Maybe I'd just given up on the idea that it ever would.

I let my fingers trail over the dusty spines, smiling slightly… there was nothing to stop me now. And my fingers were beginning to tingle.

…

Charlie gave me an apologetic look when I finally made my way downstairs, my duffle bag filled with clothes, books and a handful of my more recent journals. I gave him a reassuring grin.

"You all set Bells?" I nodded, as he followed me awkwardly to the door. "You um, you can come by any time, okay? Don't worry about anything your mom says."

"I will," I said softly.

He relaxed. "And next time, why don't you bring this guy around? I want to know more about this guy you married. See what the fuss is about."

I laughed. "I will. Love you Dad."

"Love you too, Bells."

…

When I walked into the cottage, Edward was on the couch; Claire perched on the cushions next to his head. I stood in the doorway for a few long seconds, just looking at him, feeling relief and contentment and a sense of rightness course through me. When he saw me, he clicked the TV off and towards me. I set the duffel bag down beside the door and made my way over to him.

"How was it?" he asked.

I shrugged and curled next to him on the couch. "Exactly what I was expecting."

He wrapped his arm around me and let me rest my head against his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I know you were hoping for a different reaction from them." I wondered how he was always able to do that. To instinctively understand how I was feeling before I'd even opened my mouth to tell him. Was I really so transparent?

I snuggled closer to him. "Don't be sorry. Everything's better now." I meant it. I hoped it would never stop feeling this way with him.

We stayed on the couch for a little while longer, watching TV and snuggling, before I got up to make dinner. Edward never asked me to cook for him but I didn't mind doing it; it was actually kind of nice to try out some of my more adventurous recipes with him, since Charlie had always been a strictly meat and potatoes kind of guy. And I liked how Edward always followed me into the kitchen and talked with me while I worked, asking for little bites of this and that. After dinner on the porch, I followed him back into the kitchen, telling him more about my visit with Charlie and Renee while he quickly washed the dishes. Already I had the feeling that this was going to be a special time of day for us, a ritual in a way. At least, I hoped it would be.

The rest of the evening was quiet; I skimmed through the journals I'd brought home with me, and watched Claire run around the room with a sock she'd stolen out of the hamper. Edward disappeared outside, and I was pretty sure that he'd gone to the large newly built shed next to the cottage, as he often did.

One of the first things Edward had done after I moved in was ask me not to go into the shed, not that I could have even if I wanted to since it was almost always locked. I didn't feel much curiosity about the building though, or whatever it was that Edward did inside, at least, not enough break the one firm rule he'd given me.

Claire climbed on top of the notebook in my lap, effectively trapping me on the couch, but I didn't mind. I buried my fingers in her soft fur, glad that she was finally warming up to me. I closed my eyes, just resting for a little while…

A soft touch on my neck and arm woke me some time later. The room was pitch black but I recognized immediately the feather light kisses along my collarbone.

"_Edward_," I murmured, moving closer to him. Blankets twisted around my torso and I was confused for a few seconds until I realized that I wasn't on the couch anymore. I couldn't remember clearly, but decided that I must have fallen asleep on the couch and Edward had carried me up to our room and put me to bed.

The soft caresses continued, maddeningly light, pulling me from sleep faster than if he'd shaken me outright. "What is it?" I said through a yawn, wishing that the curtains were open so that I could see him.

"Will you come somewhere with me? I want to show you something."

"Okay." He kissed my neck and pulled the covers off me, helping me out of bed. In the dark he handed me a pair of jeans and a thick, unfamiliar sweater that I realized must be his. I dressed clumsily, but Edward kept a grip on my shoulder, steadying me. It was just after 2AM I saw, when I glanced at the clock.

After I finished dressing, he wordlessly led me down the stairs and out the back door. It was brighter outside the cottage, even though the moon was half hidden by a low cloud. It was still a remarkably clear night however, and I had no problem following Edward down to the dock, where the canoe was already in the water.

Edward had gotten everything ready for me; he'd even made me a little bed in between the seats out of an old wool blanket laid across the bottom of the canoe, and several of those old floatable seat cushions to use as pillows.

I held onto Edward's hand as he helped me into it, almost losing my balance several times as the canoe rocked with my movements; Edward steadied the canoe as I settled down on the blankets and pulled the old comforter he sat myself down and pulled the other blankets Edward had brought over me. It was actually very comfortable… and lying down, looking over the clear unobstructed lake, the view of the sky was breathtaking. Impossibly immense and majestic.

Edward sat down on the little seat behind me and began to paddle us right out into the middle of the lake, until I couldn't even see the shore anymore in the semi-darkness. His paddle cut so smoothly through the water that it barely made a splash.

The lake was black and depthless, like an ink spill studded with diamonds. The whole scene had a feeling of unreality, like a dream where the colors are more intense, and everything is bigger and more intricate than in real life.

When Edward stopped paddling, I raised myself up and slid the cushions backwards until they rested on Edward's calves. I leaned up against him, laying my head on his knee and turned so that the coarse fabric of his jeans rubbed against my face. He smelled like the lake, damp and earthy. I closed my eyes, lulled by the gentle lapping sounds of the water and our quiet breathing.

I felt Edward's fingers in my hair, stroking it softly away from my face and playing with the loose, sleep tangled strands; he gently lifted my face up to his and gave me one of those sweet rare smiles that always made my heart pound a little faster.

"Look," he whispered.

I turned just in time to see the long, pale tail of a shooting star streak across the sky. But even before it had completely faded, another took its place, then another and another, until my eyes were darting everywhere, trying not to miss them. I had never seen so many in my entire

"Are you going to make a wish?" Edward asked me after awhile, still stroking my hair and neck with his large, warm fingers.

Was there anything left for me to wish for? I remembered the night I had lain in the back of my truck with Edward during the concert; that brief flash of longing I'd felt to belong in Edward's world. I remembered how I'd wanted to experience a moonlight kayak ride with him, to experience _everything _with him— to know what he looked like when he was sleeping, to see him smile, to be kissed by him. How much I'd wanted him to _know _me

And in some unbelievable way, that wish had come true. Was it made bitter by the fact that I couldn't have him forever— that I wouldn't have him at all if I weren't dying? Yes… but at the same time I realized that if Dr. Thompson had given me the answer I'd expected that day in his office, nothing would have changed. I'd still be in that cold, neglected house, there would still be Friday night dinners and Mrs. Stanley's disapproving frown at the library. I would still feel tired and insignificant and dull and ugly. And if I hadn't suddenly been given a time limit, if I hadn't met Alice in the diner, if I hadn't kissed Edward, I would still_ be _all those things.

I could wish that the tumor growing inside my heart was gone. I could wish that I would live to be 90 years old. I could wish to look like Rosalie. I could wish to be loved…

But I wouldn't. As strange and unconventional as my life had become, I was happy. I felt alive. I felt beautiful. I felt wanted. That was enough.

I realized that I still hadn't answered Edward, but I sensed that he wasn't waiting for one. The meteor shower seemed to be over, save for one or two stragglers that were gone almost as soon as they had come.

Belatedly, I became conscious of the wetness on my cheeks; I blinked, surprised to find that I was crying. I moved to wipe them away but Edward's hand was faster.

"You're crying," he said, brushing his thumb along my skin.

"I just realized something important. Don't worry, I'm not sad."

He cupped my chin, turning me again so that I was facing him. I looked up at his shadowed face, the angles of it sharpened in the moonlight. My breath caught in my throat, as the feeling that this was all a dream came rushing back to me.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

I nodded, closing my eyes and leaning into his had. "I used to dream about this, being with you like this… I never thought it would really happen." I lifted myself up onto my knees and wrapped my arms tightly around his waist, causing the canoe to rock. Edward stilled me against him, lowering his face so that I could kiss him.

"I love you."

It was the first time I'd said the words since that day in the meadow. I'd purposely avoided doing so before because I was afraid of making him feel awkward, even if I was constantly saying them over and over again in my head. But I couldn't avoid doing so now; there weren't any other words I could give him, nothing as honest.

I waited for Edward to stiffen, to pull back and apologize, but to my amazement he didn't. Maybe he understood how much I needed to tell him. He was the only thing I was completely sure of.

I nestled closer to Edward, my thoughts still spinning a hundred miles an hour. I wanted to stay just like this, I wanted to stop constantly comparing the extremes between my life now and my life a year ago, I wanted to forget that every day that passed meant one less day. I wanted to push away every painful, bitter thought and exist solely in the present. I wanted to be a person without a past or a future.

And I knew I could do it.

I smiled inwardly, feeling lighter now that I'd made my decision. The second phase of my life had begun. There was no going back.

* * *

**If you haven't heard Radiohead's gorgeous live version of Videotape, go watch it on Youtube right now! (after reviewing of course). It's such a sad beautiful song and I've loved it, for this story ever since I first heard it.**

**So what do you think? Good, bad, indifferent? As always, I want to know what you guys think**!


	14. Chapter 14: Mystery

**Disclaimer: Edward and Bella aren't mine.**

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who's been here from the beginning and those who are just finding this story. Enjoy.**

* * *

Chapter Fourteen: Mystery

_Love, I hope we get on  
I hope we can find a way  
__Of seeing it all  
Love, I hope we can be  
I hope I can find a way  
Of letting you see  
That I'm so easy to please  
So easy_

-Easy to Please, Coldplay

_~September/ October~_

It was heaven.

Being with Edward, living with him, loving him… it made every other happy moment in my life seem small, pale in comparison. I wasn't even sure I had even known what real happiness had felt like before I'd met him. Sure, there had been moments when I'd felt content enough, glad enough— but nothing could touch that all consuming, all encompassing joy in being alive that I felt when I was with Edward.

It wasn't just him though, it was the cottage too. It was the freedom that I felt there.

I got up whenever I wanted to in the morning, whether it was 7AM or 10AM. I stayed up as late as I wanted to at night, reading or watching TV. I ate what I wanted. I listened to music on Edward's insanely complicated stereo system whenever I wanted, as loud as I wanted. I kissed Edward when I wanted to—touched him, hugged him, made love to him—all when I wanted to.

Edward would wake up each morning to swim and kayak, no matter what the weather was like. It became my habit to wake when he did, and watch him dress in the dim early morning light. If nothing more interesting developed (as it often did), I'd lift my face for his good morning kiss, then roll over and go back to sleep for a couple hours.

The mornings were my time to be alone. Usually, I didn't even bother dressing, just threw on one of Edward's long sleeved flannel shirts, made myself a cup of tea and went to sit on the porch. I'd wrap myself up in one of the old wool blankets and read, or stare at the scenery, or watch the little red dot on the other side of the lake that was Edward's kayak.

Living beside the lake was amazingly peaceful. The already sparse summer community began closing up their cottages for the winter in mid-September, and I eagerly awaited the time when we'd be all on our own. I was beginning to discover how much relished being alone, thrived on it… but maybe that was just because with Edward, I never felt lonely.

After spending most of the morning on the water, Edward would wander back in around noon, make his lunch and go straight back out to his shed. I'd taken to calling his hideaway the 'Cave,' but I still had no clue what he did in there all day. All I knew for certain was that four days a week, he'd hole himself inside from noon until dinnertime; sometimes he'd emerge frowning, as if something hadn't gone well, or there was a problem he couldn't puzzle out. Sometimes he came out smiling, laughing and exuberant. Sometimes he went right back inside after dinner and didn't come out again until very late at night.

This wasn't the only odd thing Edward had done however. My third day at the cottage, he'd handed me a credit card and told me to use it to buy anything I needed. I'd stared down at it for a few long seconds, realizing that I still had no clue how much money Edward had or where it came from. As far as I knew Edward didn't "work" per say—still, the card was always accepted when I used it so I assumed he was paying the bill on time every month. I didn't feel comfortable using it for more than groceries and sometimes gas for Edward's Volvo when he let me drive it. My bank account might have dwindled a bit, but there was still enough left for anything I might want to buy myself.

I was too busy to wonder much about it, nor did I feel like wasting time wondering: I'd known from the beginning that I would have questions—and that Edward wouldn't always answer them.

Every day after my own lunch, I'd get dressed and curl up in my favorite writing spot in the little alcove by the stairs with my laptop. It hadn't taken me nearly as much time as I'd thought it would to get back into writing every day, though I'd started out small, with just a couple writing prompts. But soon, just dipping my toes in wasn't enough, and I flung myself into it head first; everything, all the words I'd strangled the past eight years came gushing out.

It was exhilarating, cathartic… and exhausting. Every night I'd close my laptop feeling like I'd just run a marathon. I'd stare at the words I'd written, relief rushing all through my body; I'd been so afraid that I'd end up just staring at a blank screen, crippled with the writer's block that had made me give up in the first place. But as soon as I'd touched the keys the words literally poured out of me. Remnants of stifled dreams, old friends, fears. And I found that because I knew more of emotions—pain, fear, happiness, love—that my writing had a truth to it that it had never possessed before.

Edward and I didn't spend all our time working, or whatever it was that Edward did in his Cave. On nice days we would put on our hiking boots and he would take me into the Olympic National forest. He showed me hidden waterfalls, mossy streambeds, meadows, huge trees that had fallen over and were slowly being retaken by the forest. He took me to the beaches nearby and helped me navigate slimy wet rocks during low tide as we searched for starfish and sea anemone in the tidal pools.

When it was warm out Edward would come to me in the morning, softly nuzzling my cheek and neck until I was completely awake; I'd change into my bathing suit and Edward and I would swim together. Sometimes we spent most of the day on the lake in our kayaks, and Edward would show me all of his favorite places. The water was so clear that we could almost always see the bottom.

I had never been much of an outdoorsy person, but being with Edward changed things. He was so relaxed, never rushing or hurrying, and he took things slowly for me so I didn't feel in danger of over-exerting myself. And with all the walking and swimming and loving, it didn't take long for my body to change. My scrawny figure began to fill out until I no longer resembled a walking skeleton. I had curves in places I'd never had them before, and all the kayaking gave my arms and shoulders clearly defined muscles. For the first time in my life, I was actually strong.

My 27th birthday was the second week of September. I didn't tell Edward about it—really didn't see the need of celebrating it at all—but Edward must have snuck a peek at my side of the marriage license too, because at dinner he presented me with a chocolate cupcake with one lit candle in it. He wrapped his arms around me and whispered _Happy Birthday _in my ear as he bent down to kiss my cheek_. _I smiled at him and blew out the candle. I tried not to think about the fact that it was my very last one.

It hadn't taken Edward and me long to learn to live with each other. Maybe it was because we'd always been so good at reading each other, but it felt easy and uncomplicated. We could tell when the other needed silence, and when the other wanted to be alone it wasn't hard to find somewhere to disappear to. Our silences didn't feel awkward, when we spoke we didn't run out of things to say, and we laughed. We laughed all the time.

Sometimes at the end of the day my cheeks would hurt from smiling and laughing so much.

Edward took me to Seattle for the day in late September, and we did the tourist thing— wandered through Pike Place and the Science Fiction Museum, went up the Space Needle and saw the troll under the bridge. It was so much fun, but coming back to our cottage was better. When I told Edward that he laughed and said it was the same way for him.

Edward had grown more comfortable being affectionate with me. He'd started out being a little hesitant about initiating contact— wary I think, that I would read more into his affection than was actually there. But the more time that passed and the more trust that grew between us, the easier it became for him.

Now he touched and kissed just for the sake of touching and kissing. I loved that he did it… and I loved that I was able to recognize the look in his hooded eyes, the lazy half smirk that told me he wanted me. Whether it was gently, thoroughly, now or later; on the bed, couch, porch, floor; whether it was quickly, slowly, playful, sweet… I loved what it felt like to be wanted—really _wanted_, not needed or tolerated or barely accepted. I loved that I could make him happy.

For more than month Edward and I lived this way, blissfully out of touch with the rest of the world. Still, I shouldn't have been so surprised when real life intruded in the form of a phone call.

…

"We've been summoned," I sighed as Edward came into the kitchen, holding a tiny ball of orange fluff in his arms. He set Claire down in front of her food bowl, then came up behind me to place a soft kiss on the back of my neck. I let myself melt against him for a moment, savoring his warmth, then reluctantly pulled myself away so I wouldn't burn dinner. I watched as he went to sit down on his stool, one eyebrow raised questioningly. "By my father."

He looked so unperturbed at this that I couldn't help but ask, "That doesn't surprise you?"

"Not particularly. I've been waiting for it for awhile now." He leaned back, grinning at me. "You seem nervous. Are you afraid he won't approve of me?"

I laughed, turning back to the soup I was stirring. "I think it's probably too late for that. My mother hasn't liked you from day one, and I highly doubt she's said anything very complimentary about you to Charlie." My smile faded slightly; I'd told Edward all about my parents and how mixed up my feelings were for them. I wondered how he what he would think of relationship after seeing us together. "Do you remember that party I went to a couple months ago?" I said abruptly.

Edward's expression instantly darkened. "The one I rescued you from? Yes I do." His tone was sarcastic.

I shot him a look. "Yes, thatparty. Anyway, before you 'rescued' me, I was hanging out with this guy I used to go high school with, Mike Newton, and he said that he had, um, _liked_ me back then." I flushed, still hardly believing that Mike's drunken confession had been the truth. "He liked me but he never did anything because my dad scared him so much. I never considered that being the Police Chief's daughter had that kind of effect on my non-existent dating life in high school." I paused, something suddenly occurring to me. "Did _you_ know who my father was before you met me?"

"Alice told me, right before you moved in."

"Did it intimidate you—knowing who I was?"

"Are you seriously comparing me to a bunch of teenaged boys?"

I laughed again. "No, of course not. I can't see you being scared of anything."

He gave me a strange, slightly sad, that made me wonder if I was wrong about him. I thought about that for a moment, trying to imagine what Edward was afraid of.

"Have you ever met Charlie before?" I asked eventually, remembering all the stories that had spread through Forks about how Edward drove too fast or was publicly intoxicated; wouldn't it be awkward if Charlie had been the one to arrest him?

"Yeah, he pulled me over my first week in Forks to give me a warning about riding my motorcycle here. He said he'd seen enough guys smeared by logging trucks to last a lifetime. He was pretty nice about it though."

"I'm glad to see that you took his advice to heart," I teased, ladling the soup into two bowls. When I handed him the tray to take out onto the porch, I didn't immediately let go of it, but stared up at him, trying to figure out what he was really thinking.

"You don't have to come with me to see Charlie if you don't want to," I told him quietly. "My family was never part of the deal."

"Bella, you know I'll come. Just tell me when you want to go."

"How does tomorrow sound? I was thinking we should just get it over with as soon as possible."

"Tomorrow sounds good."

…

"Wow, you really have a death wish," I said the next afternoon, unable to keep the smile from my face as I looked Edward up and down. He was leaning casually against his Ducati, my helmet resting against his thigh.

"What's life without a little danger?" he said, pulling me to him. "Besides, I never said I was good at following the rules."

I tried to picture Edward at seventeen; I wondered if he had been as confident and self-assured then as he was now. Something told me that he was no Mike Newton. I told him so, watching his brow raise as he considered it. "That was a long time ago, I'm a much different person now… but I don't think I would've been averse to sneaking up to your bedroom window at night."

I whacked his shoulder and took the helmet, feeling a rush of regret that I hadn't known him then. How different would my life have been if he'd found me then. "Come on, the Chief's expecting us."

Fifteen minutes later we were pulling up in front of Charlie's house. I looked around in surprise, noticing that it had changed in the month since I had last seen it: the grass was newly mown, the bushes trimmed— a little inexpertly it was true, but they were certainly much less ragged than they had been. The front steps looked newly repaired. I wondered how much of it was boredom on Charlie's part, or if he was trying to make a good impression for Edward. Neither option seemed very likely, but I couldn't think of any other reason why he would suddenly be so interested in home maintenance.

Charlie was in the front hall when I opened the door. When he saw me his, cautious smile faded and his eyes went wide. "What the hell happened to you Bella?" he cried.

I flinched, my hand automatically rising to the my cheek. Shit, I had practically forgotten about the nasty yellow-purple bruise and long red scratch along my cheekbone. "It's nothing," I tried to reassure him. "Just an accident; you know how clumsy I am." It had happened the day before when I was climbing out of my kayak after Edward and I had spent the afternoon on the lake. I hadn't waited for Edward to help me out—pure stupidity on my part given that my balance was a thousand times worse on the water. One small misstep and I'd fallen straight onto one of the dock's wooden pylons. The only good thing was that my face looked a lot worse than it felt.

Charlie's expression darkened as he looked past me to where Edward was standing in the doorway. I could tell immediately what he was thinking.

"Don't even go there Charlie; it was an accident," I warned him, my voice very low. He didn't look very convinced, but didn't push either.

With one last firm look at my father, I introduced him to Edward, feeling incredibly awkward and shy the whole time. _Thank God I'll never have to do this again_, I thought, feeling my face flush_. I don't think I could stand it._

We eventually made our way into the living room, and made stilted conversation. I told Charlie a little about my new life at the cottage, but not everything. In a way, that time was… sacred to me, much too special to talk about, even with my father. I showed Edward some of the awful baby pictures Charlie had scattered around the room and he laughed. Thankfully Charlie didn't pull out any of the awkward Bella-baby stories; that would have been a little_ too_ cliché.

Charlie didn't say much at all actually. He was a lot like me, quiet, even with people he knew, and absolutely abysmal at small talk with strangers. Instead, he watched us, though I noticed every few minutes his gaze would shift out the window to where the motorcycle was parked.

"So Edward," my dad began suddenly, during one of the many inevitable lulls in the conversation. "You're not from around here are you?"

I flushed beet red. Beside me, Edward stiffened.

"No," he answered, his voice slow and hesitant. "I grew up in California. I haven't been back there in years though."

"And what exactly is it that you do for a living? Bella's never explained it to me. But certainly, that cottage couldn't have come cheap."

"I work from home," was Edward's curt reply. I turned to him with a mortified, apologetic expression on my face.

"Dad," I interrupted just as he was about to continue. "We _really _don't need to do this."

"They're simple questions Bells," he argued.

"It doesn't matter; Edward and I didn't come here to be interrogated."

Charlie's lips tightened. "You came here so I could get to know your husband, that's exactly what I'm trying to do."

I stood up abruptly. "Do you want some water Edward?" He shook his head. I turned to Charlie.

"I need something a lot stronger than water," he grumbled, getting up to follow me into the kitchen.

"We'll be right back," I told Edward, lying.

I kept my back to Charlie as I grabbed a glass out of the cupboard and filled it with water. I had sensed all afternoon that he'd wanted to get me on my own, I just wasn't sure if I really wanted to hear what he had to say.

When I finally turned away from the sink I saw my father sitting at the table, staring intently down at the can of soda in his hand.

My eyebrows rose in surprise. "No Rainier today?"

"I've been trying not to drink so much," he said quietly. I blinked, hardly believing what I was seeing. My whole life Charlie had had a beer every day after work, with dinner, while watching the game, and sometimes one before he went to bed. He never got drunk—at least not obviously. Mostly, the more he drank the quieter he became, the more tired he seemed, the sadder his eyes got.

I walked over the refrigerator, needing to see the evidence with my own eyes. And to my shock there was no beer, just Tupperware container after Tupperware container of what looked like leftover homemade meals. I pulled the cover off the nearest one and saw some kind of chicken stir-fry. My mouth dropped open.

"Who's been cooking for you?"

Charlie's face reddened and he muttered something incoherent.

"What?" I frowned. "I didn't catch that."

He cleared his throat, his cheeks still a dull tomato color. "I, um, I've been taking cooking classes once a week up in Port Angeles." At my incredulous expression he added, "Sue thought it was a good idea for me to learn to cook."

"Sue?" I repeated, running through all women I knew with that name. "Sue Clearwater?"

Charlie nodded. "Her husband and I were really good friends you know, and after he died I stayed in touch with her. I'd do little things around the house for her if I could… and well, I went over to her house a couple weeks ago and…" he trailed, blushing.

"Wow," was all I could manage to say. I couldn't remember a time in my life when Charlie had gone out on a date—when he'd even been interested in doing so—and now it sounded like he was seriously interested in Sue. He was even taking _cooking lessons _for her. And he'd given up drinking beer…

"So you're dating?" I clarified. "Is it serious?"

"Yes." A quiet contentment seemed to fill him as he spoke the word.

"That's great dad."

We sat in silence for a few moments, me watching Charlie while he stared out the window at the accumulating clouds. "It's going to rain later this afternoon," he considered. "But he brought you here on his motorcycle anyway, doesn't he know how dangerous it is to be caught in a rainstorm around here?"

I didn't have to ask who _he _was. "Edward's very careful Charlie. He knows what he's doing."

"Does he Bells? Then please explain to me what happened to your face."

"I already told you it was an accident; I tripped when I was getting out of a kayak. Was Edward supposed to magically be there to catch me?" I shook my head. "It's no big deal."

Charlie's brow rose, his intent gaze met mine. "Is that really what happened?"

I was too stunned to speak. Did Charlie really think that Edward… that he had done that…

My father sighed. "I can't tell you all the excuses I've heard over the years. 'I tripped.' 'I'm clumsy.' 'It's not his fault.' They all say the same things."

"Edward would never—" I was so angry that I couldn't even finish the sentence. I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "Edward would _never _hurt me. Do you think I would stay with him if he did? Is that the kind of daughter you raised?"

"I hope to God that's true, but you've changed a lot the last couple months Bells. I worry sometimes that I don't know who you are anymore." Charlie's shoulders slumped, he rubbed both hands across his forehead. "I ran a background check on him."

"Tell me you didn't!" I cried.

"You _are _my daughter Bella—you've known this guy, what? A couple months? I had to know what kind of guy he is."

I turned away from him, bracing my myself against the counter. "I can't believe you would do that. You could have just asked _me_."

"Look, he seems like a nice guy, he really does… but there's something not right with him. When I ran the background check I couldn't find anything—his life seems to have begun when he moved here over a year ago and bought the cottage; before that there's nothing. Did he change his name? Why? What's he hiding from? A felony charge? Child support? Worse?" I heard him stand up from the table. "I know you're mad at, but I'm a cop, this is what I do, especially when it comes to protecting my daughter."

"Why can't you just trust me?"

Charlie didn't speak, but he didn't have to; I already knew what he was thinking. It was the same thing Renee had said to me after I'd told her I'd gotten married. _You're just a naïve little girl…_ And a naïve child can't be trusted to take care of herself, to make the right choices. She needed other people to make the choices for her.

"I know everything I need to know about Edward. I trust him; I know what kind of man he is…. If that's not enough for you then I'm sorry… but it is for me."

Neither of us spoke for a few long minutes after that. I waited for him to tell me I was being stupid, naïve, to bring up the stupid bruise on my face again, but he didn't. Finally, a quiet cough from the doorway broke through the oppressive silence. My head snapped up and I saw Edward standing there, his expression blank.

And just as it always did, his presence immediately filled me with tranquility. It didn't matter what Charlie said, or what he thought—it didn't matter what anyone thought. I smiled at him, my feet automatically moving me towards him, like were magnets.

"We should probably get going," he said, taking hold of my cold hand. "I want to be back before the rain starts."

I smiled at him, nestling into his side. "I'm ready to go home."

We both turned towards Charlie, who was watching our interaction closely. For a brief moment I tried to view us from his perspective: me—smitten, happy, love struck. Edward—calm, quiet, protective. What conclusions would Charlie draw from that? Was that why he was so wary?

Charlie rose to his feet and put out his hand to shake Edward's. "Thank you for coming today."

Edward nodded. "It was good to meet you," he paused, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "More officially anyway."

"I'll talk to you soon," I told Charlie. I hesitated, then added, "I'm really happy for you, about Sue I mean. I think it's great." And it was true, I'd been afraid that he would never be able to move on after my mother. A little bit of the guilt I'd harbored ever since I'd moved out melted away.

I said goodbye to my father and Edward and I made our way out of the house. With every step I took I felt a little weight leaving my shoulders, like a long exhale after a tense moment. Edward had met Charlie and it had been fairly civil—at least, Charlie hadn't said anything really bad in front of Edward.

Wordlessly, Edward helped me up onto the back of the bike and handed me my jacket. I waited for him to smile, to share in my sense of relief that it was finally over, to make a joke out of it, but he didn't. He moved mechanically as he put on my helmet and tightened the strap beneath my chin, before quickly putting on his own helmet. I frowned at him, wondering why he was being so brusque when he normally he liked to linger through getting me ready.

I frowned at his back as we rode, trying to figure it out… when suddenly the truth came crashing down on me about Edward's strange behavior. The mask was back. It had been so long since I'd seen the tight, completely emotionless expression on his face, since our wedding day in fact, that I hadn't noticed it right away. I hated it even more now than I had then. Then I hadn't known how looked when he was relaxed, when he smiling; when his eyes glinted with amusement, or contentment, or hunger. And now that I knew I couldn't be satisfied with any kind of void. It was simply wrong.

I tightened my arms around his waist. _Don't you dare go anywhere Edward Masen. No more masks._

My heart clenched a little painfully with the realization of what he must have heard at Charlie's house.

Fat, wet droplets of water began to fall on us as we rode up the long driveway to the cottage. I didn't go inside straightaway, but to the porch so I could watch Edward as put the Ducati under the lean-to off the shed and covered it with a heavy tarp. Even from a distance I could see the remoteness in his face, the tenseness in his body as he walked down to the dock and stood with his back to me.

It was a beautiful sight: the dark silhouette of his tall, lean body, his reddish-bronze hair bright against the gray mist that covered the lake… Beautiful but austere. Untouchable. Lonely.

But Edward wasn't alone anymore.

I opened the porch door, my clothes and hair instantly dampening from the cold rain, but I hardly felt it. Edward turned when he heard me coming down the path, but his expression didn't alter.

I stopped several feet away from him, feeling warmth race through me despite the temperature outside. "You look almost exactly like you did the first time I ever saw you," I told him, the memories from that day hitting me so hard that the breath left my lungs with a _whoosh. _"It was raining, and your hair was all wet and kind of falling down over your eyes. You looked so tired."

And I did what I'd wanted to do then but hadn't been brave enough, I closed the gap between us and touched my fingertips to his cheek so I could brush away the rain on his perfect skin. "I wanted to touch you so bad. I didn't even know who you were but it didn't matter. It was instant."

"Why didn't you?" he asked quietly, his green eyes darkening.

"Because I didn't know how. Because I was scared and it was easier to run away." I took a step closer, and gave him a wry smile. "Besides you would have thought I was crazy."

He titled his head, and for the first time a spark of amusement touched his eyes. "Why are you so certain about that?"

I laughed at him. "Please, I bet you never even noticed me until Alice introduced us."

To my shock, Edward shook his head. "No, I remember seeing you before that."

I frowned up at him, my hand instinctively moving to brush away the heavy raindrops on his face with the back of my hand. "When?"

He reached up to take my hand in his, bringing it to his lips so he could kiss each of my fingers, right at the base over the knuckle before twisting it around so he could kiss the delicate inside of my wrist. He held my hand to his face, closing his eyes like he was seeing it all over again. "You were sitting in front of the police station, reading a book; you must have been waiting for your father."

I shook my head. "I don't remember that." I hadn't thought it possible that, as aware of him as I'd been back then, that there might have been times I'd been unaware of him.

"I was sneaky," his mouth lifted at the corner.

_What did you think of me? _I wanted to ask him. _Did you think I was pretty? Why didn't you come up to talk to _me_?_

His mouth lifted higher. "And then there was that day we walked past each other on the sidewalk and you were wearing that dark blue shirt; the sun was full on you it made your hair gleam." He touched the corner of my lips with the pad of his thumb. "You gave me that little witchy smile. It was right before we met…"

"Now_ that_ I remember." I moved closer to him and wrapped my arms around his waist. I breathed a sigh of relief when I looked up at his face, seeing instantly that the mask was gone. I buried my face into his shoulder.

"You heard what my dad said, didn't you?" I asked after a little while.

His arms tightened slightly. "Yes," he sighed.

"I'm sorry; Charlie shouldn't have said any of those things." I felt Edward's shoulders move in a shrug.

"He cares about you. I understand that he thought he was doing what's best for you."

I scowled into his jacket. "He has a funny way of showing it."

After a beat, Edward added, "I heard what you said about me too. No one's ever had that kind of confidence in me before."

I looked back up at him, my scowl deepening. "I know you would never hurt me."

"No, I wouldn't," he agreed, lightly brushing his fingertips against the bruise on my cheek. "But what about the rest of it? The felony and the child support—or worse." He smiled at me—a real smile, slow and warm. It was his first true smile of the day. "I could be dangerous."

"It's like you said—what's life without a little danger?" I teased, moving onto my tiptoes so I could kiss him. _Still_, I added silently, _I don't believe there's anything the littlest bit dangerous about you. Whatever you're running from, it's nothing like that. _

Edward looked at me closely. "You're really not curious about it, are you?"

I shrugged, shaking my head. "No, I'm not."

Edward considered me for a few long seconds. There was something in his expression, something a little bewildered and slightly amused. "Somehow I believe you," he paused, a wide smile spreading across his face. "I've never known anyone like you before Isabella Swan. Come on, let's go inside, it's freezing out here."

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**Thanks for all the reviews, recommendations, and support guys, you're the best ;-) I promise, no matter how long it takes me to update, I won't give up writing this story ;-)**

**~Rosybud**


	15. Chapter 15: Red and Green

**A/N: I've said it before and I'll say it again: my reviewers are so smart it's scary. Wow. Thank you! **

**A few of you have mentioned that Bella is living in a bubble, which is such a wonderfully apt description for her life at the cottage! Of course, like all bubbles, it's going to burst one day… and when it does things are going to get interesting around here. Until then, here's some lighthearted Christmas fluff, cause if I was going to die my last Christmas would be insane ;-) **

**Enjoy!**

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Chapter 15: Red and Green

_Yesterday_  
_I woke up_  
_With your head on my arm_  
_My hand was numb_  
_Circulation gone_  
_But I dared not move the pretty sleeping one_

_The sun had painted_  
_Patterns on your face_  
_As you breathed Sunday air_  
_You rolled onto_  
_My open arm_  
_I became your pillow; you let me smooth your hair_

-Morning Lullabies, Ingrid Michaelson

_~December_~

"Are you serious Bella?" Edward asked, the obvious skepticism in his voice mixed with wry amusement. "It's huge."

I didn't take my eyes off of the gorgeous 9-foot tall Douglas fir in front of us, but gave him an enthusiastic nod. "It's perfect Edward. Just _smell _it. Have you ever smelled anything as nice as that?" I leaned forward, inhaling deeply the strong piney scent., thinking to myself that nothing, _nothing_ smells more like Christmas than a real live Christmas tree. "Imagine the whole cottage smelling like that."

"It's certainly going to take up the entire cottage. Where are you planning to put it?"

"In the alcove by the stairs," I tell him, already picturing how it will look all lit up and sparkling.

"And what are you planning to put _on_ it?"

"Decorations." The tone in my voice made it sound like I was really saying _what else is there, dummy?_ I turned to look at him over my shoulder, flipping my long hair out of my eyes as I did so, and saw that he was smiling at me, not at all put out by my teasing.

Edward didn't quite know what to make of the sudden obsession that had us traipsing around a Christmas tree farm all morning. It certainly wasn't where he'd expected to spend his morning, but he was dealing with it pretty well, probably since I'd promised to bake him Christmas cookies later on.

"Do you do this every year?" he asked curiously, rhythmically tapping the small metal saw we'd been given against his knee. "Find the biggest, fattest tree in the lot?"

"No, I haven't had a tree since I was twelve and I accidentally told Charlie I didn't believe in Santa anymore. He said it was too much work."

"What about your mom?"

I shook my head. "Renee buys her trees every two years at Wal-Mart. Pre-lit," I added. "It's been years and years since I've had a real tree." I inhaled the sweet piney scent again, and smiled a little to myself. "What kind of trees did you have when you were a kid?"

Edward shrugged. "Live ones. I don't really remember them; I'd come home from school and they'd be all up and decorated; my mom was kind of a perfectionist. I haven't had a tree in years."

I wondered what Edward's mother would think of my makeshift decorations—I definitely _wasn't _going for perfection with them: it was more what I could get for cheap. After Thanksgiving I'd seen someone throwing away six boxes of old but perfectly good glass ornaments; I'd snagged them, thinking I could just find a small tree to put them on. Everything had ballooned from there.

My fingers curled possessively around the fat tree. "So what do you think? Should we get it?"

"Why are you asking me?" he said, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "It sounds like you've already made up your mind."

"I can't lift it into the truck without help," I scowled at him, "and even if I found someone here I still wouldn't be able to get it into the cottage."

Edward wrapped his arms around me from behind. "I see how it is," he said, chuckling softly. "You just want me for my muscles. Okay then, let's get it."

I covered his arms with my own. "It's going to fit perfectly," I told him one last time. "You'll see."

It did fit. Almost anyway. Edward had to cut four inches off the bottom and move several pieces of furniture but it made it into the cottage eventually, and right where I'd wanted it too.

We did the cliché thing and played soft Christmas music and drank hot chocolate as we decorated it. I kept remembering how Edward had said that he would come home to find the house already decorated, and couldn't help feeling a little sorry for him. Even Charlie had made the effort before he'd given it up; some of my favorite memories were of us going up to the attic and dragging down boxes of Grandma Swan's ornaments.

Claire had been unwittingly fascinated by the tree. She'd taken one horrified look at it as Edward was dragging it inside, and then scampered to the top of the stairs where she'd watched us as we maneuvered it into place, clearly convinced that we were insane. The long strands of lights had coaxed her to the bottom of the stairs, but it was the shiny, dangling ornaments that finally convinced her to come out and make friends with the foreign object in her living room. She cautiously sniffed the tree, her cute little orange face all scrunched as the needles pricked her face.

When Edward and I came down the next morning, Claire was curled up under the tree like it was her favorite place in the world to be. And thankfully, she hadn't tried to climb it. Not yet anyway.

As the weeks passed, the little cottage gradually began to fill with Christmas-y things: a vase of pinecones and red glass balls on the dining room table, a thrift shop Santa from the 30's on the bookshelf, spruce branches on the mantle, a red throw on the back of the couch.

Maybe I was crazy, maybe I was taking it too far, maybe it didn't really matter in the long run. I'd never really gotten into the whole "holiday spirit" thing before— the rushing around at the last minute to find presents had been tedious. The long family dinners had been torture. Mostly I'd ended up tucking myself into corners so no one could see me, hiding in my room, and begging off my mother's shopping expeditions. Christmas had always been just another day.

But wrapped up with Edward on the couch in front of the fire, all the lights off except the ones on the tree, I was glad that I'd lost my mind a little.

It was beginning to scare me how fast the months were flying by. The days blurred together in a simple, soothing pattern until I had no clue what day of the week it was, let alone the month. If it hadn't been for the steady drop in temperature time might have been standing still for all I knew or cared.

Towards the end of September, Edward and I had to trade in eating on the porch for dinner in the dining room. I no longer went outside with my tea in the mornings, but stayed curled up in bed longer, Claire draped half on top of my legs, watching raindrops slide down the window.

The weather wasn't enough to stop Edward from going out on the lake every day however, and he came back inside soaked to the bone, his pale cheeks streaked a bright, poppy red and his green eyes brilliant. And every time—every single time— I wanted to say something stupid like _you're beautiful _but I held my tongue and just savored the sight of him, all pink and white and mine.

Mine.

The holidays made time slow down, made time stretch until I could actually _feel _the hours pass. I could pretend—I _did_ pretend— that I didn't get a jolt every time I looked at a calendar and saw the rapidly depleting days; I could push away unwelcome thoughts as soon as they came… but it didn't matter. Time still passed, the thoughts were always there. I needed a distraction, and so I grabbed onto Christmas like a drowning person clutches onto a life vest.

There was another reason distraction that I was looking forward to more than anything else: Alice and Jasper were planning to come back to Forks to celebrate Christmas with her parents and sister. I hadn't seen Alice since she'd left for her honeymoon and I was missing her like crazy.

I hadn't been looking forward to telling her about what happened between Edward and I, not sure how she would take the news. Edward and I had gotten married three days after Alice left for Austin: we hadn't dated— had spent barely any time together on our own. My family assumed that we'd had the whole summer together, only Alice knew the truth. What little had been between us… she'd seen it all.

But when I'd finally gathered my courage to blurt out what had happened during that first phone call after Alice's month long honeymoon, all she'd done was laugh and say, "I wondered when you were finally going to tell me."

It was the last thing I had expected her to say, and I gaped into the phone for a few long moments, my thoughts racing as I tried to figure how she could have known. Had her mother told her? Had Edward? "_You knew_?" I stuttered when I finally got my mouth working again.

"Well, not that you guys had gotten married; I didn't see that one coming at all." There was a hint of disbelief in her voice, but it sounded more directed at herself than at me. "But I knew how you felt about Edward. I've known _tha_t since the beginning."

"I thought I was better at hiding it," I mumbled.

"You were very good," she soothed. "But I'm omniscient remember, I know everything."

"Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"I wanted to, but it really wasn't any of my business. And I was kind of curious to see what would happen if I didn't interfere." She chuckled. "And just look what happened."

The night before Christmas Eve, Edward and I went out to meet Alice and Jasper for dinner. We could have had them come over to the cottage but I felt strangely… reluctant about the idea for reasons I couldn't explain, not even to myself. The cottage didn't feel real to me; it felt removed, special, and as irrational as it was, I wasn't ready for the outside world to descend and shatter the illusion… even if it was just Alice and Jasper. Therefore, I was incredibly grateful when Alice suggested meeting up at her favorite restaurant in Port Angeles.

She was radiant in a red sheath dress, and Jasper looked so happy, his eyes seemed to gleam every time he looked at his wife. We spent hours at the restaurant, laughing as Alice regaled us with stories of all the difficulties she was having opening her new store. I'd forgotten how much I loved listening to her talk. There was something so happy and energetic about her, it drew me in, calmed me. Alice was my opposite. Maybe that was the reason we could be such good friends.

Right before desert Alice grabbed my hand and dragged me off to the bathroom, whispering something into my ear about girl talk. I followed her into the fancy, empty women's bathroom and waited, wondering what information she wanted to drag out of me. Something about Edward? I'd been waiting for it all night. Still, she didn't pounce immediately, just looked at me, her gaze intense and probing until I began to grow uncomfortable.

"Are you okay Bella?" she finally asked.

I frowned at her, smiling a little at the bizarre question. "Of course I'm okay… is there some reason why I shouldn't be?"

But Alice only shook her head and took my hand. "Are you _okay_?" she repeated.

And I knew. I just knew.

She knew.

I stared at her. Somehow she had figured it out—somehow she had put the pieces together. "Alice…" She nodded, squeezing my hand tightly. "How did you—how did," I trailed off uncertainly.

Her expression softened. She leaned forward to give me a quick, fierce hug. "Oh Bella…" she said gently. "We lived together all summer, and I know I'm kind of scatterbrained sometimes, especially with the wedding and everything, but I'm not blind. I saw those pills you were always taking, that look you got on your face sometimes, like you were in a lot of pain. You're not… _well,_ are you?"

I could feel myself crumple up inside at the words. "No…" Alice truly was more intuitive than I had ever guessed. I hesitated. How much could I really tell her, how much did I want to tell her?

"No, you don't have to tell me anything else," she said, shaking head forcefully, and reached up to push a heavy lock of hair off my face. "You would have told me on your own if you were ready. I just…" she paused, "… does he know_?_"

I knew that she was talking about Edward. "He knows everything."

"I wasn't going to say anything, it's just, I hated leaving you last summer. I hoped that Edward could be there for you, and then when I saw you two together tonight—the way you looked at him—I just needed to know that you had someone, that you aren't alone."

"I'm not alone," I said quietly, realizing to my chagrin that I was blushing.

"I'm glad for you Bella. You seem so much happier than you did when I first saw you in that diner, even than you were back in August."

"I really am. And thank you Alice—for not pushing."

"Of course." Her eyes shone, her anxious expression gave way to something a little more peaceful. "You know I always had a feeling about you and Edward, it was like you were both looking for something, just waiting until you found it. You don't have that lost look in your eyes anymore." She gave me one last tight hug. "I know you're not ready to tell me, but even if you never are, I want you to know that I'm here for you. For anything at all."

She grabbed a handful of paper towels from the dispenser and dabbed at her eyes. "Now come on, before the guys start wondering if we've gotten lost."

It was wonderful to see Alice again; I'd missed her since she'd moved to Texas, but I could tell that she was very happy with her new life. I was happy with mine too, so when we said goodbye it wasn't _too _bittersweet.

…

At the cottage there are so many times of day to love. Dinnertime when Edward comes in from the Cave and leans carelessly against the countertop to watch me cook. Afternoon when we kayak on the lake, all bundled up in fleece and hats and gloves to keep away the cold. Bedtime when Edward gives me that _look _and I know exactly what he's thinking. The only time I'm ever able to read his thoughts so clearly.

So many to choose from, but to me, there's only once choice.

I had never seen a sunrise before I came to the cottage. Sleep had been far too precious to waste on a pretty view, not that there had been much of one in Charlie's tree-shaded backyard. But it had quickly become one of my favorite times of day when I had come to the lake, even if it was raining, or sleeting, or just plain overcast. I found myself waking up early every morning just as the cloudy light began to flood our bedroom; I'd stay awake for hours, just taking it all in.

Dawn was peaceful, almost… sacred. Yes, sacred was a good word to describe the way it felt to wake up next to Edward's warm sleeping body, to have his hand resting lightly on my waist or arm, to look out over the calm lake through my window and up at the mountains sheathed in a fine, delicate mist.

Sacred. Precious.

I found myself doing the same things every morning: I'd turn over onto my side so I could watch Edward as he slept. I memorized him—the freckle on his back, just above his shoulder blade, the other one behind his left ear. I watched his hair color change as the light did. On rare sunny days, I tried to see how many shades of it I could name. Bronze, copper, mahogany, auburn, cinnamon, caramel….

And then, when the sun was finally all the way up— bright and shining some days, overcast others— Edward would wake up. He did it slowly, lingeringly, like he was being pulled from a good dream and wanted to take his time. His breathing would lose its steady regularity, his back would flex and stretch and his eyes would open, offering enticing, flickering glimpses of forest green.

And then came my favorite moment of all, when his eyes found mine and he'd give me a sleepy, lazy, sweet smile that held both secrets and promises. In those moments, it seemed like a lifetime ago that I had dreaded sleeping. The unsettling dreams, waking up cold and empty. Worse had been the long nights when sleep had not come at all, and I'd tossed and turned restlessly, wishing the hours would not stretch on and on and on.

I was at the edge of a hazy, wispy dream on Christmas morning, just about to wake and start ogling Edward when suddenly something freezing pressed against my cheek. I woke instantly, making a sound of disgust and surprise as I jerked away from the sensation, almost falling off the bed in the process— but icy arms wrapped around me, pulling me back from the edge. My back met a hard, cold, cold, cold body. _Edward. _

He was already awake. And freezing cold.

"What the hell are you doing?" I yelled, trying to pull away from him but only succeeding in twisting from back onto my stomach; my t-shirt rode up in the process and I could feel the iciness of his body touching my bare skin. Goose bumps erupted across my lower back.

My yell caused Claire, who'd been tucked tight against my side, to jump with surprise. Huffy with indignation, she jumped off the bed, and glared at me over her fuzzy orange shoulder.

"Did you fall in the lake?" I asked, trying to push him away from me but he wasn't budging.

"Who said anything about falling," he whispered, his hands running up and down my back, making me flinch. "I went for a swim."

"In December? At the crack of dawn?" Faint, frosty pink was just peeking in through the large window. Edward didn't answer; knowing him he was probably smirking at me. "You couldn't have thought of a nicer way to wake me up?" I grumbled.

"I don't know," he murmured, and I felt him lay his cheek in the hollow of my lower back, his arms reaching around my hips as he began to trace circles across my belly; his lips were moving hotly against my skin, his warm breath tickling me. "This seems like a pretty nice way to wake up to me."

"You would," I muttered, trying to arch away from his freezing skin.

"Ah, come on, you can't tell me that you don't like this the littlest bit?" I could feel him smile as he brushed his lips across my ribs. I made an angry indifferent noise, but inside I could feel myself melting, especially when Edward moved up my body to whisper in my ear. "Merry Christmas Bella."

I rolled over onto my back. "You just want me to get up so I can start cooking the turkey," I grumbled, nudging his shoulder and ducking down to kiss his collarbone to avoid the pesky morning breath issue.

Edward nuzzled closer. "Mmm, you're warm."

We snuggled like that for a few minutes, sharing my body heat between us. I was just getting sleepy again, falling in and out of that hazy in-between place, when Edward jostled me as he reached across the bed to pick up something on the floor. He laid a small, slightly worn velvet box down on the pillow beside me, covered in one of those peel and stick bows that are everywhere during the holidays.

Edward's fingers traced circles on my hip, almost distracting me. "Here's your Christmas present," he murmured. "Completely impractical just like you wanted."

"You remembered." I smiled brightly at him, pulling off the bow and sticking it onto his forehead. Edward made a face at me and flicked it off for Claire to play with later. I touched the box timidly, nervous but moved at his thoughtfulness. When he'd asked me what I wanted for Christmas I'd told him to get me something frivolous and unnecessary, something pretty. I was sick of Renee's clothes and Charlie's promise to pay for whatever new repair the truck needed. "Practical" presents. I wanted something that had no purpose but to be enjoyed.

I held the box for a few minutes, loathe to open it and ruin the surprise straight away. It wasn't that I was excited for the present—I was excited because it was _Edward's _present. He had chosen it, he had thought I might like it. And I was still selfish enough to greedily take whatever he gave me.

Inside the box was a necklace, beautiful and obviously old judging by the gorgeous spidery filigree. The glass heart shaped pendant caught the limited light in the room, casting rainbows… maybe it was a crystal. "It's beautiful," I breathed.

"It was my grandmother's. I know she would've liked it to be worn and enjoyed."

"I love it—here, help me put it on." I held my hair back so Edward could fasten the delicate silver chain. I shivered as his still cool fingers brushed against my sensitive skin and lingered. The pendant lay perfectly between my breasts. Right over my heart.

Our eyes met as the crystal heart settled into place.

"Good start to Christmas so far?" he asked, his eyes glinting; I could tell that my reaction to his present pleased him.

I grinned, and leaned forward to rest my head against his collarbone. "Edward, this is already better than any Christmas I can ever remember."

_Because of you_, I wanted to say. But as always, I held my tongue.

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**I was taking a look at my outline today and I think there's about 5-6 chapters left to this story. The end is near folks ;-) **


	16. Chapter 16: A Crack in the Glass

**What's this? An update in (slightly) less than a week? Wow, I've shocked myself a little bit here. It's a little shorter than the other chapters, but hopefully you won't mind ;-)**

**I recommend listening to Lykke Li's gorgeous live acoustic version of Tonight on Youtube while reading this chapter. It fits perfectly.**

**Twilight isn't mine, but I do own an awesome life size cardboard Edward cutout that frequently scares the bejesus out of me in the middle of the night XD**

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Chapter 16: A Crack in the Glass

_Watch my back so I'll make sure  
You're right behind me as before  
Yesterday, the night before, tomorrow _

Dry my eyes so you won't know  
Dry my eyes so I won't show  
I know you're right behind me

And don't you let me go, let me go tonight  
Don't you let me go, let me go tonight  
Don't you let me go, let me go tonight

-Tonight, Lykke Li

_~January~_

I woke suddenly, sharply, biting back a gasp as the pain flooded my body.

It had never happened like this before. Usually my attacks came on slowly, predictably; I'd sense when I'd pushed myself too far, feel the tightness in my chest; I had hours to prepare, to take my medicine and wait for the burn to fade. Time to hide upstairs or under the covers or on the porch.

I never let Edward see what the pain did to me, how it broke me. Our relationship was filled with secrets… this was mine.

It rarely happened in the middle of the night, and it _never _woke me from a sound sleep. It had been months since I'd felt anything so strong, and I'd secretly begun to hope that my body had given up and the pain was over.

Stupid Bella.

I held my breath as I carefully peeled back the covers, trying not to disturb the bed too much in case I woke Edward. The darkness of the room was oppressive, suffocating, the moon long since hidden behind thick clouds so not even a sliver of starlight escaped.

I kept my hand on the wall as I blindly felt my way downstairs to the bathroom; I knew the cottage as well as I knew Charlie's house, but I didn't want to take any chances and accidentally trip down the stairs. I fumbled for the bathroom light switch and when I flicked it on the bright light hurt my eyes, causing me to squint as I rooted through the medicine cabinet. My fingers closed gratefully around the familiar bottle… but it didn't feel quite right, lighter somehow. I shook it, expecting to hear the rattle of pills inside. I didn't.

It was _empty. _

Shit. I suddenly remembered that I had forgotten to get a refill the last time I'd been in Forks. It had been so long since my last major attack and I realized with a wave of self-disgust that I'd gotten too complacent. And now it was the middle of the night and I could feel the pain coming, getting worse every second. I hadn't been without medicine since before that last awful trip to Dr. Thompson, and some of those attacks had been very, very bad.

I perched on the edge of the tub, paralyzed by the burn and unwilling to go back to Edward. Soon, even the effort needed to stay upright was too much and I slid down onto the floor; I laid my forehead on my knees as the sensation in my chest worsened, until my heart literally felt like it was being rubbed raw.

All coherent thought left as a new wave of pain overtook me, worse than anything that had preceded it. It was so sharp, like being stabbed— only that really wasn't the right word for it. Squeezed. Pummeled. Torn. There really was no word for it, I decided, when the pain ebbed slightly. Nothing did it justice.

I locked my jaw, trying to keep my breathing impossibly shallow and my movements to the absolute minimum; it hurt less that way. _It will be over soon_, I told myself. It had to be.

But it wasn't. The whimper I had been fighting so hard to keep in escaped me when the pain came back— and it was just _too _painful, too unbearable. My whole body was tight and cramped. The cold night air blew in through one of the old leaky window and every breath I drew was painfully cold in my lungs.

I hunched lower, wrapping my arms protectively around my knees, rocking slightly when I could bear it, and biting my lip as hard as I could to keep any more sounds from coming out. I could— no, I _had _to get through this, just as I had all the other times. But… the attacks had never been this bad before… Or maybe they had and I'd forgotten. Another spasm racked my body, it felt like a fist was closing tightly around my heart, squeezing as hard as possible. All the muscles in my body clenched and another quiet moan tore past my lips.

_Just breathe Bella, breathe. It will be over soon. One deep breath… and another… and one more_. In and out, in and out…

Too cold. Too hot. My skin felt clammy, burning in some places and icy in others. I lay down on the chilly tile floor, curling into a fetal position, dragging a towel down from its hook and bunching it up under my forehead. It was scratchy, but the abrasiveness felt good on my sweaty skin. The cold tile under me felt good too, but it wasn't enough to ease the pain.

I was sure my body was going to shatter, burst into a thousand pieces. Good. Anything was better than this. I wrapped my arms around my chest, digging my fingernails into the soft flesh of my arms.

Death had never seemed so close, so immediate, so inescapable. And God, if I was going to die, why did have to be like _this_? Excruciating. It suddenly became crystal clear that this could be the end. It could be this attack, or one just like it, when my heart simply gave out, unable to cope any longer. It might hurt this much… or maybe even _more_.

I screwed my eyes shut as another wave of intense pain came. Because it wasn't enough that I had to die young, but my death had to be painful too? Why couldn't it be gentle, peaceful? While I was sleeping, or lying on the hammock in the sunlight. Why did dying have to hurt?

My cheeks were wet. Was I crying? Sweating? I couldn't tell. It didn't matter. This wasn't my body anymore; it wasn't anything but agony and I wanted to escape it, to run and run and keep on running until there was nothing. No body. No fear. No want. No hurt.

Just nothing.

I lay there, shaking all over, for what felt like hours. In reality, it couldn't have been more than twenty minutes but in early morning hours time stretched and dragged until I wasn't sure of anything anymore.

I jerked when I felt a warm, solid touch on my shoulder. I hadn't even heard his footsteps, but I knew Edward was there. Seeing me. Like this.

He crouched down beside me, his fingers, so blissfully warm, began rubbing very lightly up and down my neck and shoulders, massaging feeling back into my frozen skin. I wanted to tell him to go away. I wanted, at the very least, to be ashamed that he was seeing me like this, huddled on the floor, crying, all my defenses down. My last secret exposed.

I wanted to have the dignity to be embarrassed… Wasn't that what the old Bella would've been feeling now? Shame? I had never in my whole life let anyone see me during my weak vulnerable moments. As soon as the cracks started to show I ran, I hid. I didn't let anybody in, not my mother or Charlie or Alice.

Didn't that matter?

But this was Edward. Edward, who didn't say a word, just knelt down behind me and very carefully wrapped his arms around me, pulling me up tight against him so I could feel all of him, so soft compared to the hard floor. Edward, who carefully pried apart my arms so he could press his palm lightly over my heart and rub gentle soothing circles over the tender spot, easing me. Caring for me.

His warmth suffused me, overwhelming the hot and the cold, seeping inside. The relief was almost instantaneous. My muscles relaxed, loosening in waves that left me boneless; I fell back against him, resting against him, letting him carry my weight. The uncontrollable shivering slowed, then stopped completely, making it easier to pull in shaky breaths.

But the pain in my heart did not stop. It came and went in sharp ripples that left me panting and aching. Edward felt the tensing in my body, the way everything locked up tight just before each wave; he seemed to tense with my every time, not relaxing until I did. I matched my breathing to his, _in and out and in and out_, though next to his deep steady breaths it didn't seem like I was doing anything at all.

He never said a word, but his fingers didn't stop their gentle kneading over my heart; his other hand was everywhere, working over my shoulders, over my hip, my belly, my thighs. He pressed a very light kiss into the nape of my neck, and then began to hum—something I had never heard him do before—and it was such a peaceful familiar sound that I closed my eyes and threw every ounce of focus and concentration into that hum and the subtle vibration of his chest.

At last, I felt the pain begin to fade, slowly uncurling its iron grip. I breathed deeply through the last twinges, Edward breathing with me, and once it was over I was utterly exhausted. Every last bit of strength was drained away, leaving nothing but a paper shell to hold in my insides, which had turned the wobbly consistency of Jell-O. Thank God Edward was there to keep me all together.

I sighed and felt Edward relax slightly behind me. He leaned over my shoulder and brushed the damp hair off my face and neck, twisting it around his fist. I saw him clearly for the first time, and he was horribly pale in the stark bathroom light. He didn't speak, but that didn't stop his worried eyes from asking the questions.

I managed a weak smile, trying to tell him that I was okay now, and I felt his lips press lightly against my shoulder in response.

We sat there, slumped together, for another minute as I tried to comprehend what had just happened. The memory of the pain was rapidly receding, taking on a pale, dull dream-like quality. I'd never be able to clearly remember what this attack had felt like, but the relief that I was still alive remained. It had been so close this time, too close.

After a time, Edward hefted me into his arms and carefully carried me back upstairs to our pitch-black bedroom. As soon as I touched the cool sheets I forgot about how disgusting I felt, how badly I needed a shower, and just burrowed deeper into the bed, sighing softly as Edward pulled the covers over my body and sat down beside me, his fingers stroking my hair away from my damp face.

I twisted onto my side, wanting to be closer to him, to feel more of him. As exhausted as I was, as much as I wanted to sleep, I needed him more. Needed to touch and feel and be soothed. Needed to take and take and keep on taking— just to prove to myself that he was real, that I wasn't imagining a person as wonderful and warm and caring as Edward. Until he had nothing else to give me, because I, Bella Masen, was the most selfish person on the planet.

I crawled closer, feeling like a boneless slug, until I had my face pressed against his warm knee; it was as far as I could make it before my worn out muscles completely gave out on me. It was so warm and comfortable that I almost fell asleep right then, the darkness and Edward's fingers pressing into my scalp working to lull me into oblivion.

The mattress shifted as Edward bent to whisper into my ear. "_Bella_…" His voice was so soft that for a second I wasn't sure if he was really speaking, or if it was only a whisper or a sigh. But then his warm breath brushed against my cheek and I could feel his lips move as he spoke my name again, unmistakable this time.

"Mmm?"

He didn't say anything for such a long time that I began to wonder if he was going to at all. "Edward?" I pressed sleepily.

When he finally spoke there was nothing laconic in his voice, nothing teasing or sweet or gentle, none of the things that were always there when Edward spoke to me. It was rougher, a low hesitant murmur. "What can I do Bella?" His fingers tightened ever so slightly in my hair. "_Please_ tell me what to do."

He sounded so confused, so unsure.

And I understood. He was asking the question he never had before—the one I'd never let him ask. He wanted to know how to take care of me. My poor battered, bruised heart broke a little at the uncertainty in his voice. He was lost.

My hand shook as I raised it to his face. It was so dark I couldn't even see his outline, but I found his cheek eventually, feeling the rough stubble beneath my fingertips. "You're perfect," I whispered.

"Bella—" I covered his lips with my hand.

"You're perfect," I repeated, my voice stronger and firmer. I pushed myself up, not sure I'd make it before my useless body gave out on me, but with Edward's help I managed to sit up and nestle myself into his lap. I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck and lay my head against his chest. I could feel his heartbeat, it didn't stutter like mine did, it was strong and loud and perfect.

"You are everything, you _do_ everything."

"It doesn't feel like enough."

"No one has ever done as much for me," I argued. "I—I know I don't make it easy for you, but honestly Edward, aside from… times like this, I'm fine. It may seem really bad right now, but most of the time it isn't, most of the time I don't hurt at all."

I hid my face against his chest, wondering why the admission left me feeling so exposed, so vulnerable. I wondered why I couldn't say any of this in the daytime, when I could actually see his face. Why did I save it for a whispered conversation in the middle of the night?

"I want to take care of you Bella. I don't want you to feel like you have to hide anything from me."

_But _you_ hide from _me_,_ I wanted to argue. But even as the words popped into my head I knew I'd never say them aloud. Maybe if this thing between us were real I'd have the right to... but it wasn't, so I didn't.

Instead, I just nodded. "It's… hard to let someone else take of me. I'm not used to it. And I'm afraid that it's— that it's not fair to you," I told him helplessly. "You didn't ask for any of this."

I felt his fingers dip beneath my chin, gently forcing me to look up at him. In the darkness all I could see of him was the tiny gleam of his eyes, fixed on me. "Bella, don't ever forget that I said yes. I knew what I was getting myself into."

_Did you, _I wanted to ask_, did you really? _It had seemed so easy in the meadow, so naïve. Edward didn't love me, therefore he couldn't be hurt by me. But there were so many levels to hurt, so many kinds of love. I knew that now. And with my own mortality fresher than ever in my mind, I was starting to second-guess everything.

Before I could stop myself, all my fears came out in a hurried, scrambled gush. "You'll be okay… right? After— after _it_ happens. You'll be okay?" I realized that I sounded just as desperate as he had, just as lost. Needing reassurance but so afraid of the answer.

Edward sighed. I imagined that he had his eyes closed, eyebrows scrunched tight like always did when he was thinking hard. "Like I said," he repeated, sounding so tired. As tired as I felt. "I knew what I was getting myself into."

I waited, but he didn't elaborate further. Before I could voice another of the hundred myriad questions tumbling through my mind, Edward suddenly laid back, pulling me with him, and covering us with the comforter. He arranged us so that our bodies were pressed tight together, arms wrapped around each other. And I was still so confused, still guilty.

I wondered if he had been left just as unsatisfied by my answer as I'd been by his. If he'd needed more but didn't know how to ask for it.

But I couldn't puzzle through it for long; my body was demanding sleep and I knew if I put it off any longer I'd pass out. As I nestled closer to Edward, I instinctively knew that this was the first and last time we'd ever be able to discuss our fears so openly. We needed darkness, needed every defense mechanism shattered, cracked wide open.

Tomorrow we would wake up and the sun would be bright and all our walls would immediately snap back into place. Held together with scotch tape and determination, but there all the same.

And maybe it was better that way.

…

When I finally made my way downstairs the next morning— well, really it was more like the afternoon—the cottage was empty, everything outside as still and serene as only the lake in winter could be. There was no sign of Edward's motorcycle in the driveway and I was a little ashamed at how relieved that made me feel. I wasn't ready to face him so soon after…

I trudged into the kitchen, feeling like I had been run over by a Mack truck, sore and leftover achy everywhere. I stopped abruptly when I saw a familiar orange pill bottle sitting casually beside my teakettle.

I picked it up, all my small hurts fading as I realized that Edward must've gotten up at the crack of dawn to drive into Forks to refill my prescription.

_See? _I suddenly wished he were there so I could tell him_. Can't you understand? You already know how to take care of me. You do it all the time._

Still… the doubt lingered. I wished he wouldn't.


	17. Chapter 17: Countdown

**A/N: I knew from day one that this would be a pain-in-the-ass chapter to write and I was right. Thanks so much for sticking with me this far, and I promise that no matter what, this story will be finished! Now that we're over this hurdle things should move pretty quickly from now on.**

**Good news (or bad, depending on your preference), this is the longest chapter I've ever written. I toyed with the idea of breaking it up but you've been beyond patient - you don't need to be kept waiting any longer ;-) **

**Enjoy!

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Chapter 17: Countdown

_Silence is golden and it's ours today  
__On a bicycle made for two  
__On a bicycle made for two  
__Some come higher, some come low  
__Some come demon-faced, some come slow  
__Some come beautiful, helpless and warm  
__like the first drop of water after the storm_

_Firebird stay with me tonight  
__All the world is asleep  
__The world is alright  
__And as long as you're mine we can conquer the light  
__On a bicycle made for two_

-Firebird, Fyfe Dangerfield

_~February~_

_Who are you? _I asked the still, silent face staring back at me, every detail crisp and perfect in the glass clear water. I could hardly believe it was me I was seeing. In another lifetime, that face and body had been dull, skeletal, lifeless.

But now… there was actual color on my cheeks, my hair looked long and sleek, my eyes were bright, my body curvy and toned in all the right places from the hiking and kayaking I'd been doing with Edward.

It wasn't like I'd been going around ignoring mirrors for the past few months, but I'd only noticed the changes in a detached way. I hadn't realized how different I looked… how much better. I wasn't pretty exactly—I held no illusions in that regard—but there was something _interesting _about me all the same.

Maybe it was more than all the fresh air and exercise, maybe the changes had come from being happy, from opening my eyes for the first time in my life and actually seeing the world.

It was easy to see now how much of my life I'd spent with my eyes fixed firmly on the ground; it was probably a consequence of being so clumsy, of always having to watch my feet to make sure I didn't trip and fall or take a step in the wrong direction. I'd never felt comfortable just looking _up _before, but back then… Edward hadn't been walking beside me.

I took a deep breath of the cool, damp air and opened my eyes wide. I drank it in—the sky that was a hundred different shades, from pure white to a deep stormy gray that promised rain later on; the endless green, obscured by a milky, wispy fog making this place look like nowhere else in the world. And the lake, which was all those colors plus a thousand more.

I didn't think I'd ever really known how amazing a reflection could be. All those times I'd seen a blue sky mirrored in a glass smooth puddle, all upside down and perfect, had I ever really _seen_ it? Had I lost myself in it until I wasn't sure what was the real world and what was its smooth feather-edged mirror image?

The more I looked, the more I realized that if you ignored the rules, if you forgot which way was right side up and how the world was _supposed _to look, if you just stared long enough and hard enough, getting lost was the easiest thing in the world.

I let my fingertip trail lightly through the water, blurring my reflection, and wondered if this wasn't also a metaphor for what my life had become. Sometimes it felt like everything before Edward and the cottage wasn't real, that I'd needed to open my eyes and ignore all the rules for the imitation to fade. Or maybe I'd gotten everything mixed up and _right now _was the reflection, ready to fall apart at the slightest disturbance.

I shook my head against questions that had no answers. No doubt about it, I was getting weird.

"Isn't that amazing?" I murmured to Edward. We were sitting on a large low rock that jutted out into the lake, offering a gorgeous uninterrupted view of the mountains and sky beyond.

I drew my fingers out of the water and leaned closer, waiting for the ripples to fade. Edward's grip on my other hand tightened, making me smile. He was being my shadow today.

Edward made a sound of agreement and let his chin rest on my shoulder as we watched the image form. A huge spruce tree grew right beside lake's edge, massive and imposing, but it was the reflection it cast that kept me so enthralled. Our vantage point on the rock made it seem that we were lying at the base of the tree looking upwards at the underside of each branch, and the detail was amazing, right down to the spidery moss growing up the thick trunk.

"Doesn't it feel like you could reach down and touch it?" I moved closer, starting to feel little dizzy. "If I jumped right now I'd fall into the branches and everything would be backwards and mixed up but it would be real. I'd be like Alice, falling down the rabbit hole." I turned and smiled over my shoulder at Edward, laughing a little.

He kissed the tip of my nose. "You aren't making a bit of sense to me, love."

"I know," I grinned. I liked that I felt comfortable enough to say anything, to say crazy bizarre things and Edward would never hold it against me. It was a kind of freedom I wasn't used to.

He began rubbing circles on my hips, turning me into boneless goo. "So would you jump into Wonderland?" he asked, pressing another kiss into my shoulder.

"Maybe once upon a time," I laughed. "When there were things I wanted to run away from."

"There's nothing you want to escape now?"

Though his voice was deceptively even, I knew what Edward was really asking. I didn't answer right away. I knew it wasn't logical—I should _want _to run from the future, from all the bad things coming… but running would mean leaving Edward and I wouldn't give him up for anything, not even a future. What was it worth without him anyway?

"Everything happens for a reason," I shrugged. "I could make myself crazy with all the what ifs and maybes but it's not worth it. I'm happy now and that's really all that matters."

I leaned my head back against his shoulder. After a moment I asked, "Would you run away, if you could?" I ducked my head, feeling shy.

He didn't say anything for so long that I thought he wasn't going to answer me. Then I felt him take a deep breath. "What makes you think I haven't already?"

"Oh."

I frowned at the cryptic reply but didn't push him for an explanation, knowing that that would mean treading dangerously close to the forbidden subject of his past. A shiver spread along my spine as I realized that that those seven words had probably been the most revealing thing he'd ever said to me.

I'd always known that Edward was running from something. A person doesn't just decide to move to a tiny town in a remote corner of the U.S, cut himself off from the rest of the world—all his friends and family— for nothing. I sighed a little, wondering if that one tiny sentence was as close as we'd ever come to talking about it. Probably.

We sat there for a long time, watching the reflections in the water shift and ripple, tired from the hike we'd taken to Marymere falls that morning. It was nice out for February, not too cold or rainy and it was wonderful just to spend the day outside with Edward.

"I have to go to L.A for a couple weeks."

I pulled away from Edward sharply, turning so I could see him, and tried to read the calm cool expression on his face.

"A couple weeks?" I asked, panic rising up through my chest.

"Maybe two. It shouldn't be much longer than that."

_What's so important in California?_

I bit my lip, stifling the question. Edward would have to me if he'd wanted me to know… and even though I was technically allowed to ask whatever I wanted, I didn't want to initiate the awkward silence that always came after I inadvertently asked something I shouldn't have. It wasn't that Edward reacted badly, he just closed himself off and his thoughts went somewhere else. Sometimes it was hours before he was acting like himself again.

It wasn't worth it.

"When are you going?" I finally asked, feeling like a coward.

"Second week of March."

"And I couldn't go with you?"

Edward shook his head. "You'd be bored all by yourself; I'm not going to have much free time." His fingers tightened on my shoulder and I knew he realized how much I was struggling with the idea of being away from him for so long. "I was thinking that maybe you could go down to Austin and visit Alice and Jasper. You know they'd love to see you."

"Maybe," I shrugged. Shit, he wasn't even gone yet but already I felt lonely and miserable. My happiness had never, ever depended on another person before, not Renee, not even Charlie; it made me feel helpless to realize how much I now needed Edward… I didn't like it at all.

"Hey, it's okay," Edward said, turning my chin so that I was looking at him. "It's only two weeks."

Two weeks. It felt like forever.

* * *

_~March~_

Despite my initial reluctance, I ended up going down to Austin for a week after all. Alice would have easily let me stay longer if I'd asked, but as much as I loved her I felt antsy about being away from home for so long.

After Edward left, I didn't really know what to do with myself. It was strange being alone, everything quiet and empty. The little cottage felt almost _too_ big for once, but maybe that was just because Edward wasn't there to fill in all the extra spaces. I wondered how he'd felt about being on his own for so long before I'd moved in—had he ever wondered if the silence would swallow him up whole or had he enjoyed it?

Had he really been alone the entire time?

Not according to the gossips in Forks, they all swore that there'd been a parade of women before me…

I tried not to think about what he was doing California, who he was seeing there. More than once, I had to close my eyes and push away those ugly thoughts. What did any of it matter as long as Edward came home to me? Besides, the more rational part of me knew that despite our nontraditional marriage, Edward wasn't the type to go behind my back like that.

Every night just before bed, Edward and I talked on the phone: odd, lopsided conversations that didn't really tell me much about what he was doing. Instead, I told him about Alice and her shop and the city, and he told me a little about L.A—the weather, his hotel—superficial things. And we pretended that everything was normal.

It was strange but before Edward, I'd never been comfortable being the center of attention. I was the 'good listener', the one who faded into the background while everyone else did the talking—while everyone else told me _their_ stories. And now, Edward wanted to listen to _me_, wanted _me_ to share, _me _to be the center of attention; laughed when I being was funny, was serious when I was serious.

God knows what he found so interesting.

During the week I spent with Alice, I realized just how accustomed I'd grown to his unswerving interest in me, how much I missed the feel of his eyes on me. I missed the quiet routine we'd made, missed the way we talked about nothing and everything all at once.

I found myself watching Alice and Jasper, curious to see how their 'normal' relationship differed from what I had with Edward. Was it different without secrets, with reciprocated love? Could light and happy and glossy shimmer have just as much substance as a real marriage? It was torture, but I couldn't help myself.

I tried to tell myself that it didn't matter that I knew so little about Edward's past, or what he did half the time when he wasn't with me— where he was from and what he was running from. Alice and Jasper had forever, Edward and I had months.

But the more I saw, the more I realized that the shared history between Edward and I almost made up for what I didn't know about him. Everything added together to create a special closeness, a sweetness. And maybe it was _because _time was so short that we had that, that bond where we almost didn't need to talk to know what the other person was thinking.

Maybe it helped that he was my first… everything. My first exhilarated touch, my first kiss, my first sleepless night, my first shared smile, my first anxious confession. My first.

I didn't know any other way to be. I didn't know any other normal. Alice and Jasper weren't us, my parents weren't us… whatever insecurities sprung out at me when I was away from Edward, I needed to remember that.

On the day Edward was expected home I was pretty much useless. I wandered aimlessly, trying to distract myself cleaning and cooking, though I was so distracted I had to pay extra attention to make sure I didn't burn anything.

Around nine that night I finally saw the shine of his headlights as he drove up the driveway. Before I even knew what I was doing my feet were on the ground and I was throwing open the front door, running to him.

Edward caught me mid jump, a surprised _oof_ escaping his lips as I slammed into him_. _His arms wound instantly around me, hands skimming up and down my back, burying his face into the crook of my neck.

"I missed you," I mumbled into his chest, breathing in his scent like a starving person.

I could feel his lips curve upwards, grinning, as he kissed the spot below my ear, the one that always made me shiver. "Missed you too Bella."

Edward's arms tightened around me, squeezing my ribs, even as he pulled back to see my face more clearly. His fingers unwound themselves from my hair to delicately trace my cheek. He looked tired, happy and more than a little surprised. As I watched, the crooked grin on his face transformed into a smile—a real smile, bright and brilliant and _content._ He leaned down to nuzzle my jaw, kissing his way up to my lips.

"I thought two weeks wasn't that long, but fuck, it lasted forever."

I kissed him back, and when that wasn't enough, I did it again and again, as if that could somehow erase the past few weeks. When kissing became too much and yet not enough, we just stood there, arms tight around each other.

"God, it's nice to have someone to come home to," Edward whispered, his voice so low that I wondered if he'd even meant me to hear them. I snuggled closer, feeling those words in every corner of my body.

Eventually, even Edward's arms weren't enough to keep away the chilly air and I pulled back and led him inside. "Are you hungry? I can reheat some dinner?"

Edward shook his head. "In a bit. Right now I just want to get out of these clothes and into a shower. I feel disgusting." He made a face. "I'd forgotten how much I hate flying."

"Come on," I grabbed his hand. "Let me give you a bath."

"You don't have to—" he began but I cut him off.

"Shut up Edward. Just let me do this for you."

Ten minutes later, after cuddling with Claire while I filled the old claw-foot tub in the bathroom, Edward made a low moan of pleasure as he cautiously stepped into the hot steaming water.

"I can't remember the last time I had a bath." I wet his hair then began working a dollop of shampoo into his thick, unruly scalp. "Mmm, that feels nice." I smiled to myself as I watched him close his eyes and let his head fall forward, his cheeks flushed from the heat of the bath.

Would I ever get over the sight of him? Would I wake up some morning unmoved, roll over and feel nothing? I couldn't imagine it.

I let my eyes feast on him for a few long moments as I rinsed the shampoo from his hair, until I physically couldn't stand not letting my hands wander. I grabbed the soap, lathering up my hands then let them slide down along his broad shoulders.

"Did you have a nice time with Alice?" he asked eventually, his voice drowsy and satiated.

"I did. I'm glad to be home though… with you. It's not the same when you're not here. And Claire missed you; she sat on the windowsill waiting for the entire time."

I paused, watching Edward smile. He was staring down at my hands, watching them slide across his chest like he'd never seen them before. Fascinated.

"Did _you _have a nice time?" I asked cautiously.

"Sure," he shrugged. "The weather was nice, not that I got outside much; I got a lot done though, so that was good."

"Good."

"I got something for you, in L.A." He covered my hands with his, stilling them; I raised a suspicious eyebrow at him but he only grinned. "It's in the front flap in my backpack."

"You want me to get it now?"

"Yes, please."

I stood up, wiping my hands dry then went into the living room where Edward had unceremoniously dumped his luggage beside the sofa. After digging around his bag for a few moments, I found a jewel case with a blank CD inside.

"Play it!"

Still frowning, I went over to Edward's obscenely fancy—and expensive—stereo system, and put the CD in. After fumbling around with the controls for a few seconds, music began to play through the speaker. The soft, sweet strains of a piano.

I was so surprised that I just stood there, listening to the stark, delicate melody_. _It started slow and began_ rising, rising, rising_—gaining in intensity. It was beautiful, slightly bittersweet… and longing?

"It's Foster, isn't it?" I whispered when I finally made my way back to the bathroom. The stereo speakers were so good that the entire cottage resonated with the sound of the piano playing. Edward looked lazily up to where I was standing in the doorway. He nodded, smiling slightly. "You're good, I wasn't sure you'd get it without any vocals."

I leaned my head back against the doorjamb and closed my eyes. "No one else plays piano like that. It's gorgeous."

"A friend of mine works for the record company that produces Foster," he explained. "When I bugged him about it he gave me this; apparently it didn't make it onto the album." His voice suddenly became hesitant, diffident. "It's a lullaby. I thought you might like it."

I moved forward, dropping to my knees in front of the tub. "Edward I love it. You didn't have to though; I know how much you hate when I listen to Foster."

He gave a wry grin of agreement. Edward had never understood why I loved this particular band so much and he never missed an opportunity to tease me about it, or at least make a face of intense disgust and leave the room.

"It's not so bad without the singing," he admitted. "That guy's voice just gets on my nerves."

The song began to descend from its peak, growing softer and more languid though the bittersweet feeling was still there, stronger than ever. Something inside me ached along with the music.

I laid my cheek thoughtfully against the rim of the tub. "I wonder what he was thinking of when he wrote this. It sounds almost sad, like he's… losing something. Something important, and he won't ever get it back."

Edward didn't meet my eyes for a long time. At last, he finally stood up out of the bath. "Water's cold." He laid his palm on my cheek. "Let's go."

Later that night, after a late dinner, we practically dragged each other to bed. And as I lost myself between slick, heated skin and soft sheets in a bed that had felt so empty for so long but wasn't anymore, the haunting lullaby played again in my thoughts. Over and over again, until I clung to Edward needing comfort for a reason I couldn't understand.

* * *

_~April~_

Edward came down with a bad cold/ flu thing in April, the knock you flat on your back, too sick to even move kind of cold. I could tell that he was miserable, all red-nosed and stuffy, but unlike my mother who'd made it her mission to make everyone as miserable as she was when she was sick, Edward was the suffer-in silence type.

I made him chicken noodle soup and piled extra blankets on him whenever he started to shiver, watched TV with his head on my lap, trying to rub away his aches. Between Edward being sick and the cold rainy weather outside I'd never watched so much TV in my life.

Living with Charlie meant that there were usually only two TV options: whatever sports game was playing and the news, neither of which was very appealing to me. Sometimes if Charlie went to bed early or was working late I'd get the living room to myself, but that was rare. I'd watched more TV during my weekends with my mom during high school than all the years I'd lived with Charlie.

I'd begun watching a little more TV when I'd moved in with Edward, but usually not during the day when we were both busy. With Edward sick and nothing else to do, I discovered a few _Top Chef_ marathons, then moved on to the wonders of HGTV. But I couldn't help stumbling across absolute crap as well, especially whenever Edward was asleep.

One afternoon, as I clicked mindlessly through the channels, Edward sprawled out on the couch beside me, I paused for an instant at the sight of a smiling blond man. I recognized him from one of the more casual Friday Dinners at Renee's when we'd watched TV together beforehand—not that a show about plastic surgery had done anything good for my appetite. But Renee was obsessed, which meant no one else had any say.

Edward rolled over onto his back, rubbing sleep from his eyes. His hair was sticking out in every direction, his skin was flushed, his eyes were squinty and red rimmed… and he was adorable. I smiled at him, reaching forward so I could smooth out the unruly tangles.

"How do you feel about some lunch?" I asked.

"Sounds good." He pulled himself into a sitting position, stretching out like a cat. I rose to my feet but before I could walk past Edward caught my hand and lightly pressed his lips against my knuckles. "Thanks Bella," he smiled.

I returned the smile, wondering how it was possible for Edward to be so devastating. He hadn't showered for three days, he had a temperature of a 99 degrees and small line of dried drool on his chin. It just wasn't fair.

After heating up some soup and grabbing a box of crackers out of the cupboard, I loaded everything onto a tray and carried it out into the living room. Edward was sitting where I'd left him, watching the show I'd accidentally left on.

The woman on the screen was tired and bruised, but the smile on her face as she looked down at her new chest was practically giddy; she leaned forward, placing a loud smacking kiss on the doctor's cheek.

I snorted as the scene changed, showing the woman in a barely there top that showed off her new, bulging cleavage. "Would you like me better if I looked like that?" I called out to Edward, laughing at the woman's ridiculousness. It was a silly, inappropriate thing to say but I still expected Edward to make a joke out of it. To laugh like always did when I was being weird.

But he didn't. His back straightened, his body suddenly went tense all over. He reached for the remote and turned the TV off, before he threw the flimsy plastic forcefully onto the chair. I could hear his breathing in the suddenly silent room—hard breaths, like he'd just finished a sprint.

"Edward?" I took an uncertain step forward.

Very slowly, he turned towards me. For an instant, my heart stopped. The expression on his face was… stripped bare, right down to the bone, exposing every single emotion that he'd never let me see before. His gaze met mine, flashing as sudden anger overtook him.

Anger. Not mild annoyance or exasperation, or frustration, but _anger. _Directed at me. In nine months, we'd never fought; we lightly argued, teased, joked, got wound up, raised our voices, but we never got really, really mad. It was one of things I loved best about Edward, one of the things that made me so comfortable with him.

Never, not once, had I seen this side of him. The burning intensity, the fire that burned so deep I didn't know if I could ever reach the end of it… and that scared me more than I wanted to admit. I faltered mid-step, unsure.

When Edward spoke, his voice was short, clipped, restrained, but I could still hear the anger simmering beneath.

"Don't watch shit like that Bella," he snapped, his voice practically a growl. Then he stood and walked over to the stairs; moments later the cottage rang with the loud bang of the bedroom door closing.

I stood still for a few long minutes, still holding the tray, blinking hard, trying desperately to understand what had happened to make Edward suddenly snap. What had I done? Watched a silly TV show? I couldn't count the number of silly shows I'd watched the past week but Edward had never seemed to care—we'd watched them together most times anyways.

My hands were shaking when I finally set the tray down on the dining room table. I stared at the floor, too overwhelmed to think straight.

What did I do? Did I leave Edward to brood upstairs? Did I pretend that it hadn't happened? Did I—

No, that was too easy, but I wasn't going to let either of us waste time sulking either. I climbed the stairs, my resolve firming with each step I took. One of the things that made this—this whatever it was between Edward and I work was our ability to talk things out, to be honest even if was only in our messed up way.

I knocked on the door three times, nervously licking my lips as I tried to decide what I was going to say; I didn't wait for Edward to open the door. Inside, the room was dark, but I was just able to make out Edward's form sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands.

"What—what happened?" I stuttered, a blush coloring my cheeks as I sat down on a low chair across from him.

Edward raised his head and smiled at me, none of the usual warmth or reassurance evident in the gesture. It didn't reach his eyes. "I'm sorry I spoke to you like that, I shouldn't have." He reached up to rub the back of his neck. "It's nothing, I'm just tired and cranky I guess."

_Bullshit._ I frowned at him. "I don't think that's all it was Edward, you were really mad."

I leaned closer, resting my elbows on my knees. _Let me in. Please, you have to let me in. _

There was this closed off part of him, so tightly hidden—and I knew that his outburst was about more than a stupid TV show—but I didn't know if I'd ever be able to uncover it.

"Bella, I don't want to talk about it. It—it's nothing. I'm just tired and I freaked out about nothing. Drop it. _Please._"

I wanted to push him but I knew I couldn't. Privacy. It was the only he'd ever asked from me.

I slumped back into my chair, feeling exhausted. "Okay Edward."

His lips quirked upwards in a beautiful, bitter mockery of a smile.

"Okay."

* * *

_~May~_

I stood on the porch looking out over the lake. It was a gorgeous morning, all bright blue and green, and blinding sun. It was one of those days that just _felt_ like spring. I'd never been able to resist days like this, they made me feel vibrant, like I needed to get out and _do_ something, anything.

I'd brought my laptop out onto the porch with me to work on what I'd affectionately begun calling "my book." It wasn't really a book, at least it wouldn't ever be published or anything like that, but it was mine. All 357 pages of it. And it was almost done. Sometimes I just scrolled through the pages, hardly believing that I'd finished something… and more than that, I actually liked it.

It had begun as a way to fill up free hours with something I'd always loved doing but had pushed aside for the other commitments in my life. I could never have predicted how far it would go, what a huge project it would become… and now I could see the finish line. Just a little more editing and I would finally be able to type _The End; _I'd already decided to do it in all capital letters. A sort of celebration, though it would be more bittersweet than triumphant.

I'd known all along that there was a deadline, that if I didn't finish my book by May then it would never be finished at all…. But with the ending came the concrete reminder of how much time had passed—and how little time I had left.

Once I finally wrote those words there would be no going back, no point in pretending.

I sighed and tucked my legs beneath me, pulling my laptop closer and opening up the word program. Before I'd even gotten a chance to scroll down to the page I'd left off working on, there was a knock on the front door. I could count on one hand the number of times someone had come to the cottage and almost all of them had been deliveries.

I stood up quickly, trying to remember if I'd ordered anything online, when I caught a flash of long blonde hair through the front window. I stopped abruptly… what the hell was _she _was doing here?

It was my stepsister.

I fumbled with the door knob. "Rosalie," I exclaimed when I finally got the door open. I was so surprised that I just stood there for a few moments staring at her; of all the people I'd ever imagined I might here, Rosalie wasn't one of them.

"Hello Bella," she said softly, smiling a little. She looked me slowly up and down, arching one eyebrow. I automatically blushed as I remembered what I was wearing: a pair of Edward's boxer shorts and one of his long sleeved flannel shirts. The shirt was large enough that it came down to my mid thigh but I felt so exposed I might as well have been naked.

I combed my fingers anxiously through my hair. "Um, come on in," I stepped back and let her inside. "Is everything okay? Is Renee…"

"Everything's fine—I came here to see you Bella, to catch up a little. It's been a long time."

"Oh. Well, um I was just sitting on the porch." _Could you be any more awkward Bella?_

Rosalie glanced around as I led her out to the porch, taking in the mismatched furniture, the books and music and relaxed clutter; I wondered what she thought of it. The cottage was by no means immaculately clean or as magazine ready as her own apartment, but it had always radiated charm and coziness. That was only my opinion though.

Claire I noticed, was nowhere to be found. She'd probably gone upstairs to hide at the sound of Rose's car in the driveway. Smart cat.

Out on the porch I sat back down in my chair, closing my laptop and straightening out all the notebooks and loose papers that had accumulated around my workspace. I felt nervous and uncertain and… invaded.

Rosalie looked so out of place, calmly standing there looking out over the lake. She didn't belong here, in this world; she made it feel fragile.

"This is really beautiful Bella," Rosalie said at last, sounding surprised. I wondered what Renee had been telling her about my new life: probably that Edward had dragged me off to live in a shack with no running water or electricity. I wouldn't have put it past her.

"Please, sit down. Can I get you anything? Tea?" I clamped my mouth shut before I started babbling like an idiot.

Rosalie shook her head, though she did sit down. "You look good too Bella, happy."

"I am." I smiled. "I'm sure Renee's been telling you otherwise though; I know she thinks I'm crazy for doing this."

Rosalie laughed, a deep throaty sound that I'd envied fiercely all throughout my teenage years. It was the kind of laugh that couldn't help but draw attention. "Yes, she does. She misses you. When I got back two days ago, we sat at the kitchen table for three hours talking for three hours about how worried she is about you. She can't understand why you left for…" she spread her arms wide, indicating the cottage.

"I wish she wouldn't worry," I said softly.

"It's not just her, honestly I thought were a little crazy too when Renee told me what you'd done. You've always been so… steady. And I couldn't imagine going off with a guy I'd only known a couple months."

That was easy to believe; she and Emmett had dated for over seven years before they'd gotten engaged. She'd always been the kind of person to make lists of pros and cons, weighing each decision to death.

Rosalie shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Actually, that's kind of why I'm here. Did…" she hesitated, "Edward, tell you that Renee and I ran into him yesterday at the pharmacy?"

My eyebrows shot up. "No… he didn't."

"I'm not surprised, Renee wasn't exactly pleasant."

"What did she say?" I asked sharply.

"Oh, she just got all mad, you know how she gets. It was the first time she'd seen him since… well. She kept waiting for him to respond, but he just stood there, totally unfazed while she talked shit, and that only made her madder. But basically, she accused him of taking advantage of you and keeping you away from your family—"

"He isn't! Renee could come talk to me whenever she wants, _she's_ chosen not to. And I see Charlie all time."

Rosalie gave me a considering look. I took a deep breath, shaking my head. "I hate having to justify myself all the time. I'm an adult and he—he makes me…" I ducked my head, unable to finish the sentence.

A small wistful smile touched Rosalie's lips. "I thought as much, Edward told us practically the same thing."

"What did he say?"

"Well, when Renee was finally finished ranting, he looked her straight in the eye and said

'I make her happy… Do you even know what Bella looks like when she's really happy?'"

Rosalie shook her head disbelievingly. I could see a glimmer of respect in her eyes. "Of course, that made Renee furious, especially when he walked away before giving her time to recover, but it got me thinking—_had _I ever seen you happy before? Look, I know we've never been that close, we've always been too different to be best friends, but I feel really badly that I never tried harder."

I blushed, completely caught off guard by her honesty. "It's okay. I—I could have tried harder too, and I didn't. We're both to blame."

It wasn't like Rosalie had treated me horribly or anything. With the cheerleading and field hockey and her boyfriends she didn't have time to treat me badly. And if I were being honest, I wouldn't have known what to do if she _had_ taken me under her wing. I was happier left of my own in the background, more comfortable with being ignored.

At least, I had been back then.

The French doors leading out onto the deck opened suddenly, and Edward was standing there, his hair damp and disheveled from his morning swim. My breath caught in my throat at the huge grin on his perfect face.

"Bella." He leaned down and kissed my neck, oblivious of Rosalie, still sitting in her corner.

I couldn't help the flush that touched my cheeks, or the answering smile that spread across my face. I leaned closer, inhaling the damp smell of him, tangling my fingers in the hair at the base of his neck. I wished Rosalie were somewhere else… far, far away.

She coughed suddenly, and Edward started backwards, frowning as he saw my stepsister. His expression changed instantly, losing its softness; I wondered if this was the face he showed everyone besides me.

Edward straightened. "Hello Rosalie." It was easy to see that she made him uneasy, and I caught hold of his hand, squeezing it gently, trying to reassure him. He squeezed back, meeting my gaze and asking in that way of his, this one that didn't need words, if I was okay. I nodded. "I'll be upstairs if you need me."

"Okay." With one last nod at my stepsister, Edward quickly left the room.

When I turned back towards Rosalie, I found that she was watching me with an openly curious expression on her face. It was almost as if she'd never seen me before.

"He's different when he's with you, did you know that?" I couldn't meet her gaze so I just shrugged. "And you're different with him."

"Yes."

"Well, I guess that answers _that _question. Edward was right." Rosalie tilted her chin, causing her beautiful blonde hair to spill around her shoulders. "I definitely didn't understand at first, but I think you belong here… or maybe you just belong with him."

She stood up and crossed the porch to give me a quick, hard hug. "I'll tell Renee."

After Rosalie left, I went upstairs and found Edward getting dressed after a shower. I wrapped my arms around him and buried my face in his shoulder.

"Was she being nice?" he asked, pulling me closer.

"Yes, and it was… weird. She's never talked that much to me ever…. I didn't know what to make of it." I sighed. "She told me about running into you yesterday. I'm sorry about my mom, sounds like you handled it well though."

"I should have told you, I'm sorry." I shrugged. "You know, I think we need to get away for a bit—tomorrow's supposed to be a nice day, how about we go for a ride on the bike?"

"That sounds really good," I smiled.

…

There was nothing like being on the back of a motorcycle, going fast, feeling the wind tug at your clothing… arms tight around the guy of your dreams. It had only taken once for me to understand why Edward couldn't give up his Ducati, despite its impracticality in rainy Washington.

Sometimes, before the cramp of sitting still kicked in, I just wanted to go and go and keep on going. It would be fun to see where we ended up.

I played idly with the zipper on Edward's jacket, tired from the long day we'd spent riding up along the coast to Cape Flattery, dreaming about curling up in front of the fire with my favorite blanket and Edward's shoulder to lean against. Heaven.

I felt the shock reverberate through Edward's body and I tore my eyes up just in time to see a large pick up truck coming around the sharp curve in the road—too fast and on our side of the road. The driver slammed on his brakes but it was already too late. Edward swore, jerking the bike out of the way, losing control.

There was an ear splitting screech of tire against pavement—glass shattering, metal crunching—a hoarse grunt from Edward as he catapulted forward, wrenched from my arms.

Time meant nothing. It was the longest minute of my life…. and the slowest too. One second my arms were tight around Edward, the next I was flying. So fast that I caught only brief snatches of bright green, gay sky, black pavement.

I slammed hard against the ground, knocking all the air out of my lungs. The momentum sent me tumbling forward, my clothes tore against the rough asphalt. I waited for the pain to come but there was just… nothing.

No sound apart from the whoosh of blood behind my ears, no sensation, no sight, no air.

I couldn't think straight; I blinked hard, trying to clear my dazed thoughts but it didn't work. Nothing made sense, nothing felt real. I moved my hand, searching…

_Edward_?

The deadened numbed sensation began to fade, sharp jabs of pain spasmed through my body, centering around my left wrist. A damp cold seeped into my jeans, clammy and uncomfortable, making me shiver all over. Sound returned with a vengeance—loud, angry noises that I couldn't identify, but didn't have the strength to try to. A sharp metallic smell filled the air. Was it blood? _Mine_?

I tried to catch my breath, but I couldn't seem to draw enough air into my lungs. Half suffocated, trapped under the heavy weight of my helmet and leather jacket, I felt closed in. I needed to move, but my legs and arms twisted uncomfortably beneath me, making it hard to roll over onto my back. Finally, I managed to turn a little so that I was on my side but it hardly made a difference since I could barely see anything through my cracked face-shield.

God—where was Edward? Why couldn't I see him? Hear him? He had to be somewhere…but I couldn't move to get to him.

Above the din surrounding me, I became aware of a faint ragged sound, like someone gasping, choking. With a start, I realized that it was me. _I _was the one making that awful sound. I jolted upright, tearing at my jacket, thrashing crazily. I needed air. I needed to find Edward. I needed to wake up from this god-awful nightmare!

Before I could yank the helmet free, strong arms clamped around my shoulders, completely immobilizing me. "Shhh, Bella. Stop. You'll hurt yourself."

Edward. I struggled against his arms—it wasn't enough just to hear and feel him, I needed to _see _him too.

"Careful Bella. Don't move yet. Are you okay?"

"I—I can't b-r-reathe!" I cried, pure desperation in my voice. Panic attack. I knew what was happening but I couldn't stop it.

Very carefully, Edward lifted the face-shield, suffusing the hot, airless helmet with a fresh breeze; I gulped it in greedily. My vision cleared, my thoughts lost their frantic incoherency. I began to notice things I'd been too crazed to see before: Edward, hovered above me, holding me motionless with the careful weight of his body. His face was sheet-white, his hair stuck up everywhere. Smoke rose behind him in long ashy columns.

My heart was racing—faster than ever had before. More than at the first sight of Edward or when I'd finally gotten enough courage to speak to him. Faster than first time he'd ever made love to me and all the times since then. Hammering inside my chest. _Thud—thud—thud_.

And all I could hear was Dr. Thompson's voice telling me that I had maybe twelve months to live, his warnings against any kind of strenuous activity, excitement, shock—anything at all that would increase my heart rate beyond a certain point.

_One day—in six months or a year or sixteen months—your heart will simply stop. But it will be quick, most likely painless. You won't even know what's happening._

I was all out of time, six pages from _The End, _and my heart was beating so fast that I could feel it in every inch of my body.

But I was still alive. Oh God, I was still alive.

* * *

**Whew! **

**So, I wasn't totally unproductive during my time away - I've got a bit of the next chapter already written and even more of the one after that (I know, weird right?) The wait won't be so long again.  
**

**I'd love to know what you think ;-)  
**


	18. Chapter 18: Numb

**A/N: You guys have blown me away with the reviews for the last 2 chapters—thank you! Hello to all my new readers, and thank you to everyone who's stuck with me this long. I couldn't do it without you!**

**Please remember that I'm not a doctor; I do my research but really, I have no clue what the hell I'm talking about. Be gentle with me ;-)**

* * *

Chapter Eighteen- Numb

_Have you ever thought about what protects our hearts?  
Just a cage of ri__b bones and other various parts  
So it's fairly simple to cut right through the mess  
And to stop the muscle that makes us confess _

And we are so fragile  
And our cracking bones make noise  
And we are just  
Breakable, breakable, breakable girls and boys

-Breakable, Ingrid Michaelson

_~May~_

_I should be dead right now._

The words played again and again in my stunned mind, making me want to jam my fists into my ears and scream until I couldn't hear them anymore. _I should be dead right now. I should be dead right now. I should be dead right now. _

But I was still breathing—if a little shakily—and my heart was still beating, no stuttering, no pain. Strong, sound, whole.

And Edward was watching me.

He hadn't looked away when the driver of the truck that had almost hit us stumbled forward, blood streaming from a cut on his forehead, asking if we were okay.

He hadn't looked away when another car stopped and frantically dialed 911.

He hadn't looked away when the sirens sounded in the distance, cutting through the concerned babble of voices around us, or when he finally let me pull off the stifling helmet and heavy leather jacket.

Even when I lowered my eyes, unable to meet his searching gaze any longer I could still feel the burning heat of his stare, distracting me from the paramedic's questions. I was perfectly okay aside from a deep scratch on my wrist and what I was sure would become one head to toe bruise, but it still felt like forever until the paramedic finally allowed me to stand and led me to the back of the ambulance.

"You're lucky," he told me, carefully wrapping a bandage around the cut on my arm. "You'd probably be dead right now if you hadn't been wearing a helmet. It saved your life."

Wonderful. I didn't feel lucky, I felt numb, all burnt and cracked open from Edward's stare. Because he _knew. _

He knew that I shouldn't be sitting here with only a cut and a few bruises to show what had happened, helmet or no helmet. The simple honest truth was that my heart shouldn't have been able to withstand that kind of shock.

Not if I were really sick.

I could only guess at what was running through Edward's mind as he calmly answered a police officer's questions; his face was cool and expressionless, his voice held no trace of his earlier panic. I heard him ask about the other driver, repeat his name over and over again…. But I still felt his eyes on me; he didn't look away for more than a minute at a time.

I sighed and pulled my knees up to my chest, hating the distance between us; it wasn't supposed to be like that between Edward and me. Not ever. Around me, scattered across the road were bits and pieces of the motorcycle, the truck had left vicious tire marks in its attempt to stop before it collided into us… which it had. Barely.

Instead, the truck had swerved, crashing into a guardrail and crumpling the entire front fender. The driver was okay and the truck could probably be repaired, but the Ducati was in much worse condition. Edward probably wouldn't ever be able to drive it again.

I lifted my face from my knees to peek out at him. Edward was fine thank God, not even a scratch though he'd probably have some gorgeous bruises to rival mine. When I thought about what could have happened if hadn't been wearing his helmet too— I couldn't even go there.

After what seemed like forever, the paramedic finally told me that I didn't have to go to the hospital, and Edward and I climbed into the back of a police cruiser so we could be taken home. For the first time since the accident, we were almost alone together, but we sat in silence, not touching, hardly even looking at each other.

I could feel him retreating, pulling away from me, but I didn't know what to say, had no clue what he was thinking. Did he think I had lied to him? Was he angry with me? I didn't know what to say so I just sat there, arms folded tightly across my chest, and waited, hoping that he would confide in me.

He didn't.

Five minutes after the cop dropped us off, Edward turned to me, awkward and unsure, and I knew that he wanted to turn tight back around and leave again. Just an hour before he couldn't take his eyes off me, now he could hardly look at me.

He stood behind me, near the door, his head bowed. "Please be honest Bella, are you really okay?"

I wished with everything in me that I could say no.

"Yes."

Edward nodded. "I'm sorry, I can't—I can't deal with this right now. I need to think, to get away." I watched, too numb to speak as he turned and walked away. He paused at the front step before he let the door close. "I'll call you."

I heard the Volvo purr to life and I wished that I had the guts to ask him to stay. Still, I couldn't blame him; I needed time on my own to make sense of what had happened too. I just wished it didn't _hurt_ so much. It twisted my insides until I felt like I was going to throw up. He called it needing time; I called it the beginning of the end.

I didn't get any sleep that night. I huddled up on the couch, holding Claire close, until my phone beeped sometime after midnight with a test from Edward.

_Don't worry. At a hotel. See you tomorrow – Edward._

Upstairs, I clicked the phone shut and stumbled, still fully clothed, onto the bed. I tried harder than ever not to think, not to remember that look on Edward's face as the pieces had clicked into place, going from panic to worry to confusion to just plain nothing as his mask fell firmly back into place.

As hard as tried, the images stayed with me until I finally fell into a fitful sleep sometime around dawn.

At eight the next morning, Edward still wasn't back. I woke, disoriented, reaching out for Edward as I always did, but when my fingers touched nothing but cold sheets I remembered what had happened. In a daze, I made myself a cup of tea and flipped open my phone, though I dreaded making the call.

"Hello," a pleasant, grating voice spoke into my ear, "you've reached Dr. Thompson's office. How may I help you?"

…

I stared unseeingly in front of me, only vaguely aware that I was sitting in my truck in the hospital parking lot. I felt dead inside, too tired to be angry, to scream out my frustration. Took sick inside to cry.

_You expected this Bella. After yesterday, deep inside, you already knew the truth. _

Still, it was so much harder to hear the words said aloud, to have that one last hope snatched away. It felt like climbing the stairs in the dark, thinking there was one more step but when I put my foot down there was nothing but air. Everything was wrong, nothing made sense anymore.

I replayed the conversation with Dr. Thompson, remembering the shock on his face, in his voice.

"I can't believe it…" he trailed off without finishing the sentence. "I knew the ECHO machine was acting twitchy, we'd already ordered a new one but it didn't come until a few weeks after your visit. I—I never dreamed it would affect your results so drastically."

My chest was still sticky from whatever gooey gel Dr. Thompson used when he'd performed a new test, this time using the new equipment. He had been shocked when I'd called his office, even more surprised when I'd confessed that I'd never been to see another doctor. He still remembered me though; I guess you don't forget telling a twenty-six year old woman that she is going to die.

This time he didn't wait to analyze the results—he didn't have to. It was pretty obvious that something was missing from the shadowy ultrasound.

There was no tumor in this image; the small mass growing on the left side of my heart was gone. Dr. Thompson had stared, mouth open, and whispered "Oh my God."

Equipment malfunction, that was what he called it, before he escaped the exam room for the safety of his office, looking as discomposed as I'd ever seen him. When I'd joined him there a little while later, dressed and stunned, he was poring over my file.

With the earlier diagnosis now proven wrong, Dr. Thompson went back to his original conclusion before the faulty echocardiogram had changed his mind. Everything, he told me—the pain, the palpitations, the breathlessness—was caused by a viral infection.

An infection.

"It's called myocarditis, which is basically an inflammation of the muscles in your heart. Normally it's very hard to diagnose, but luckily your case was never particularly severe and the treatment I prescribed for the tumor has been effective in treating it." Dr. Thompson's voice lost its shakiness as he found comfort in complex medical jargon. He understood this, this was familiar and safe, something he needed after I'd shown up and sent his world spinning.

The sound of my name pulled me away from my thoughts.

"I don't understand Isabella, why didn't you ever ask for a second opinion? Any one of the hospitals I referred you to—they would have seen it was a misdiagnosis immediately."

It was the first time I'd spoken in over 45 minutes. I licked my dry lips and tried to focus. "I… I believed you. I thought I was going to die and if none of those other doctors could do anything for me then what was the point? I didn't want to spend the last year of my life in the hospital."

Dr. Thompson reached out to touch my hand, looking stricken. "You have no idea the regret I feel at causing you so much pain; I can only imagine what you've gone through, what the past few months have been like, believing you were going to…"

_It was perfect, _I wanted to say. _It was the best year of my life._

"But," he continued. "You're fine now. The inflammation has cleared up on its own and I think that as long as you take care of yourself, continue to get plenty of rest and come in for periodic checkups, you should be fine It probably wouldn't hurt to continue your current dose of medication as well since it's worked so well. You appear to be healthier than ever Isabella." He looked at me appreciatively, making me want to pull my hand back. "This is a wonderful thing. Some might even say miraculous."

He smiled at me, seeking reassurance. I couldn't give him any. I felt numb. Frozen from the inside out.

Dr. Thompson frowned at me, probably wondering why I wasn't happier—I should have been smiling not frowning, not looking like the world was about to fall apart. But my world _was_ falling apart, everything I'd built, everything I wanted—it was all crumbling around me. And I didn't know how to stop it.

…

When I pulled into the driveway there was another car parked in my normal spot; the sticker said it was a rental from Seattle, but I had no clue who would be visiting now. I groaned and laid my head down on the steering wheel, too exhausted by the long day I'd had and by what I still had to do—I really didn't need to deal with a stranger on top of everything else.

Reluctantly, I climbed out of the truck, looking around for the visitor. Edward's Volvo still wasn't in the driveway and I'd locked the front door, so there was no way they could be waiting inside. As I walked in between the cottage and Edward's studio, I caught sight of a flash of color in the corner of my eye down by the water.

Taking a closer look, I realized that it was a woman, standing by herself on the dock. She looked to be around my age, and very tall and slender. Her loose hair shifted slightly in the breeze, shining like living flame as the setting sun hit it. Walking closer towards her, I saw that it was actually a very pretty shade of strawberry blonde.

Walking closer still, I realized that she was drop dead beautiful.

Her impossibly long legs were showcased in super tight skinny jeans and fancy leather riding boots that came up to just under her knee. She wore a cropped jacket and a fancy scarlet colored scarf tied artfully around her neck. When she heard my footsteps, she spun towards me, uncertainty marring her perfect, delicate face. Her skin was flawless, her violet eyes huge and expressive—she gave Rosalie a run for her money in the beauty department, something I'd long since thought impossible.

I tugged at my sticky t-shirt, feeling frumpy and uncoordinated once again.

"Who are you?" the stranger blurted out, but even startled, her voice was low, purring, attractive. She laughed nervously, seeming to realize her rudeness. "I'm sorry, you startled me. I'm not even sure if I'm in the right place," she explained, her tone apologetic.

My answering smile was forced. I tried to relax but I couldn't suppress the apprehension rising through me. "That's okay," I said, keeping my voice even and friendly. "My name is Bella, is there something I can help you with?"

"Yes, I'm looking for Edward—Edward Cullen. Do you know if he lives here?"

Edward _Cullen_.

The numbness was not enough to protect me from the sting of those words. _You knew he had secrets, _I told myself, _you knew he had a past…_ One that he would not share.

But _she_ knew. This beautiful, sophisticated woman, whoever she was—she knew and I did not.

The woman was staring at me, her eyebrows tight with confusion as she waited for me to answer. "No. No Edward Cullen," I stumbled a little over the name, but even as I spoke it I knew it was the right one—the _real_ one. "There's an Edward Masen here though."

Her wide smile was blindingly white. "That's him. I shouldn't be so surprised that he would use that name." She rolled her eyes dismissively, then looked up towards the cabin. "So Edward really lives _here?_ Mmm, it's very… quaint. Not exactly where I pictured him living though; he could certainly afford something much nicer."

I gritted my teeth. _Quaint_?

"No one was at the house when I came, do you know when he'll be back?"

"Probably not for a couple hours at least, but I wouldn't be surprised if he doesn't come back until tomorrow."

The frown was back between her perfect eyebrows, she was looking at me curiously. "So are you his neighbor?"

I wanted to laugh, or maybe throw up. This whole situation made me feel sick. "No, actually I'm his wife."

She gasped. _Don't worry, _I wanted to say, _who knows for how much longer._

"I—I didn't know," she stuttered. "I didn't know he'd gotten married." Her gaze swept across me, scrutinizing me in that way that made me feel an inch tall and hideous; I blushed in spite of myself.

Her eyes widened, zeroing in on my chest. "Holy shit!" she muttered, then her gaze shot up to meet mine. "He gave you his grandmother's necklace." Automatically, I reached up to grasp the pendant Edward had given me for Christmas. Most of the time I wore it tucked inside my shirt, but I'd had to take it off during the doctor's appointment and I'd been in too much of a daze to put it back. The crystal was warm and comforting; I hated the way this woman was staring at it.

She laughed. "So, how does it feel to wear a quarter of a million dollars around your neck? I always wanted to know."

"What?" I gasped. _A quarter of a million dollars?_

"He didn't tell you? That's typical. Did you think it was glass?"

"I—I had no idea…" I instantly dropped the heart, which I suddenly realized must be a diamond. Worth 250,000 dollars.

"Obviously not." There was something mocking about the woman's smile; she probably thought I was some idiot redneck. I tried to pull myself back together; I needed to get this woman to leave.

"Well, um, that was very nice of Edward. Um, I'm sorry he's not here right now, but when he comes back I'll tell him that you came by."

She nodded, still smiling. "Oh, I'll be back tomorrow morning no matter what, Edward and I have some things we need to talk about."

The words jarred me. _Edward and I_. Probably because I knew how right it was. Edward belonged with a woman like her, not someone short and plain, who couldn't even tell the difference between crystal and diamond.

The woman flicked her long hair over her shoulder and began walking towards the driveway. "Well, it was nice meeting you. When Edward comes back you can tell him Tanya was here."

"I'll do that," I mumbled, more to myself than her. A few minutes later I heard her engine start up and I let go of a breath I hadn't even realized I'd been holding. Tanya. Tanya with her gorgeous model-looks and her history with Edward… this was turning out to be a freaking fan-tastic day.

I sighed and walked back up the path to the cottage. There was no sign that Edward had been home while I'd been gone… that was good. It was better to face him when I was calmer, more in control of myself. God only knew what I would do and say if I saw him now.

I hadn't eaten anything since the yogurt and tea I'd forced down for breakfast but I wasn't hungry. Honestly, the thought of eating made me feel nauseous, so even though it was close to dinnertime, I bypassed the kitchen completely and headed for the stairs.

I tried not to look too closely at our bedroom. It hadn't been so bad in the darkness the night before, but now every place I looked had some memory attached to it, each one so sharp that I thought they might actually slice my skin.

Had it only been yesterday morning that Edward had kissed me awake on that bed? First the back of my shoulder, then the hollow of my neck, higher to my chin and my nose and my cheek. When he'd finally made his way up to my lips, his kiss had been feather soft, his touch on my stomach so light that it had tickled, but I'd _felt_ it. I felt everything. I heard his breath catch and his heartbeat speed up as the kiss deepened, a long sigh that seemed to say _I want you, I want you, I want you_.

I'd sighed the same sigh.

Tears prickled at my eyes, but I roughly pushed the memory away and went over to the closet, tucked beneath the eaves. It wasn't the easiest place to get to, so it was used more for long-term storage—like the duffel bag I'd shoved there back in August.

It had lain there, untouched since then, and I had to brush away some of the dust and inevitable cat hair before I put it onto the bed. It was time to do what I'd been dreading all day, since the words had come out of Dr. Thompson's mouth…

I couldn't stay here. I couldn't wait for Edward to come back and demand an explanation. He was probably thinking of the best way to do it—wherever he was now. But I wasn't ready to face him yet. And especially not here.

Somehow, my clothes had gotten all mixed up with Edward's in the closet. His dress shirt hung beside my skirts and blouses, but they were the ones we didn't use all the time, so it had never really mattered before. I tried to remember when that had happened, when 'my space' and 'his space' ceased to mean anything, but I couldn't.

Cutting off all emotion, I ruthlessly purged the closet of all my shoes, scarves, and clothing, tossing them onto the bed. But I stopped when my fingers brushed across rumpled dove gray silk.

I'd only worn the dress once, but what a day it had been. I took a deep breath, remembering all the emotions I'd felt on my wedding day. Nervousness, excitement, exhilaration. Disbelief; I couldn't believe that it was all real, that it could be so easy. I kept waiting to wake up.

The handwritten note I'd pinned to the strap was still there and my heart gave a tug as I thought of Alice. I quickly read it, pausing when I got to the end.

_Don't be afraid Bella, you're going to get everything you want, you deserve it. Good luck._

_Love, Alice_

I read it once again, then let the dress fall back into place in the closet.

_Liar._

_Did you see this Alice?_ I wanted to yell._ I thought you were supposed to know everything—did you know when you gave me this dress what would happen? That it would end like this?_

I felt like laughing at the irony. _Everything you want_. Shit, I'd wanted—well, I hadn't wanted to die exactly, but I'd made peace with the inevitability of it, I'd accepted that it was going to happen and was grateful because it gave me the freedom to get what I wanted. For nine months, I'd believed that I would die here at the cottage, with Edward as my husband, on my own terms.

And now… I'd never felt more out of control of my life, not even when Dr. Thompson had first given me the diagnosis; after I'd gotten over the shock, I'd felt empowered by the freedom. Now I was just spinning, reeling, trying to wrap my head around the idea that the future I'd planned on was gone, impossible now.

Never once in my life had I actually contemplated suicide; I would never be desperate or unhappy enough to actively seek death… but I wanted to die now, wanted it so badly I could hardly stand it. After nine perfect months, it would be so easy to let go. Yes, Edward would be sad for a while, but he would heal. He'd miss me but he'd move on; I'd never touched him too deeply, he was still himself.

And me? What could the future possibly hold for me? The thought of the next fifty-odd years terrified me.

Death had made me fearless. It had given me the courage to smile at Edward, to leave Renee and her rules, Charlie and his indifference, to ask Edward to marry me—because what did I have to lose? But the fear was back now, crippling in its intensity.

I would be alone, because there was no way I could fall in love with anyone else. Not after Edward

Our year together was over. Deal off. Thank you and goodbye. God, could it really be so cut and dry?

What if… what if Edward still wanted me? What if he believed me when I told him the truth? Why did anything have to change?

_Because you don't know anything about the man you married other than the fact that he apparently has jewelry laying around worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. _

_Because he doesn't trust you with his past. Or even with his real name._

_Because he doesn't love you._

Could I really live with a one-sided relationship riddled with secrets? It hadn't mattered before, but I didn't know if I could live like that for real. Could I stand waiting until Edward got bored and wanted to move onto something else, to _someon_e else?

Someone like Tanya.

No, I already knew I wouldn't be able to survive that. It was much better to leave right away, to pull the band- aid off quickly and endure the sting. It would hurt less in the end.

I had infringed enough on Edward; I needed to let him get back to his own life. His real life.

It took longer than I expected, removing all signs of my presence from the cottage. Clothes, toiletries and books were easy, but what did I do with the mismatched dishes I'd found at a yard sale? The pillow Edward had bought me when I'd complained that the ones on his bed were all too hard? Did I take them? Did I leave them for Edward to deal with?

In the end, I left them. They belonged to the cottage now… and I liked the idea that maybe they'd stay with Edward, that he'd remember me a little every time he saw them.

_You're pathetic Bella… Masen? Cullen? Nope, just plain old Bella Swan now. You're crazy too_.

It was almost dark when I'd finally finished loading everything into the back of the truck.

With that task done I felt suddenly rushed, like I needed to get away as quickly as possible before I changed my mind or worse, Edward came home.

"Claire!" I called. There was no way I could leave without saying goodbye to her to her; already, the thought of leaving her behind was tearing me apart. I went from room to room, calling her name. Usually, she liked to hide under furniture or in closets, but she was very good about coming when she was called.

After going through the whole cottage and finding no sign of her, I knew she must have snuck outside. Claire was supposed to stay inside, but every once in a while she would delude herself into thinking she was an outdoor cat. She'd gotten devilishly good at opening the latch on the screen door, especially if no one was paying attention to her.

Of course, once she'd made it fifteen feet away from the cottage she'd remember she was a scaredy-cat and refuse to go any further.

"Just what I need," I grumbled. Who knew how long it would take to find her in the dark.

I grabbed a flashlight and my jacket and headed outside, calling her name. Five minutes later I heard a small cry.

"Claire, what are you doing out here?" I called, following the sound of her meows. They led me to one of the partially open windows in Edward's shed. It was too dark to see her through the screen, but it pushed forward slightly as Claire nudged her head against it, purring loudly.

"You bad kitty, did you sneak out here?" I walked over to the other side of the shed to where the door was, and unthinkingly twisted the knob. Claire trotted happily towards me as I stepped inside, her tail sticking straight up in the air. I caught her in my arms and rubbed my face against hers.

And then it hit me where I was.

"Oh shit."

But I couldn't _not _look. I didn't have the discipline to just close my eyes and back out of the building, besides, from with just one glance it was pretty obvious where I was anyway. Guitars lined one wall, several keyboards on another, a table covered with music sheets and old notebooks took up the center of the room, awards lined one shelf.

I let out a half hysterical giggle as my eyes skimmed the concert posters, framed LP's and photographs of Edward in front of a microphone with a guitar strapped around his neck. He was Foster. Edward was Foster.

I burst out laughing, startling Claire into digging her claws into my shoulder, but I couldn't stop. It wasn't real laughter anyway; there was nothing funny about what was happening, but it was better than sobbing at least. This day had been too much, beyond too much, from waking up alone, to the hospital and finding out everything I'd believed was a lie, to Tanya and now this.

Why the fuck shouldn't Edward be Foster?

My heart ached as I remembered how elated I'd been the first time I'd listened to the CD Angela had sent me, how, while hearing that voice and that music, the place inside my chest grew and grew until I'd felt more alive, more awake—like I could do I'd finally finished the CD I'd wanted to scream.

And all along, it had been Edward. It would always be Edward.

I froze. What if he began to question my reasons for wanting to marry him after I told him the truth about my illness. What if he thought I'd found out that the lead singer of my favorite band was living in my town and made up a story about being sick to ingratiate myself into his life?

It was farfetched and way too complicated, but I could understand how some might jump to that conclusion. I'd just have to make sure Edward didn't.

Before I left, I pulled one of the CD's off the shelf and carefully took out the booklet. It was the first time I'd ever seen one—Angela had burned Foster's first album for me, and I'd bought the second off iTunes. Not that it would have changed anything, the images inside the booklet were either abstract artwork or collages of tiny photographs of many different people.

Finally, I came to the part I'd been looking for. It was a small paragraph, just ten words, but it was enough make my heart crack wide open.

_For Tanya, who inspires all my songs. I love you._

…

Eventually, I carried Claire back into the house and snuggled with her as I rooted around for a piece of paper and a pen. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't just leave without a word to Edward; we would talk more later, when I was calmer, when I had my head on straight again, but I had to do this first.

I stared down at the crumpled notebook paper for a long time trying to think of what to say. All my words sounded so cold, so dry. Not good enough.

_Dear Edward,  
__There's so much I want to say to you but I have no idea where to start…  
__I went to see Dr. Thompson today. I think we both knew that after the accident yesterday something was wrong. I had to find out for sure what that was. __I'm not going to die after all. It was a misdiagnosis. There never was anything seriously wrong with my heart, and the medication Dr. Thompson prescribed has eased my chest pains. He says that as long as I'm careful and I keep taking it, then I shouldn't have any more attacks.  
__I hope you know that I've always been completely honest with you. I never meant to use my illness to deceive you in any way. When I asked you to marry me, I had no idea that this would happen.  
__I understand that everything has changed now, and I promise I won't fight you in whatever you decide. This was only meant to last nine months and that time is up now-They've been the best nine months of my life—I won't ask you for anything more.  
__Thank you for everything you've done for me. I am so glad you came into my life.  
__Yours,_

_Bella _

After folding the note in half and scribbling his name on it, I put it on the empty dining room table where Edward would be sure to see it right away. I set the necklace down beside it. As much as I wanted to keep it I knew I couldn't. Maybe if it were only crystal… but there was no way I could take something so valuable.

After a moment's hesitation, I tugged off my wedding band and set it down next to the necklace. I wasn't prepared for the intense feeling of nakedness I felt without the warm metal on my finger. It was all so wrong.

Before I had time to change my mind, I kissed Claire goodbye one last time and shut the front door, locking it behind me. I didn't look back.

On the day of my wedding when I'd driven past the road that led to Charlie's house I never thought I'd go back there for anything other than a visit. I would've been happy if I'd never had to go back. I'd lived there for eighteen years, claimed a room and hook on the wall where I could hang my jacket and keys every night, but it had never once felt like home. It had never once been mine.

The house on the lake was mine. I loved it there, loved every ratty piece of furniture, every dark corner, every view from every single window. I even loved the awful kitchen with its falling apart cabinets and leaky sink. It was mine in a way I was afraid nothing ever would be again; so much more than a room and a bed and a hook. If I had just died, it would've been mine forever.

But I hadn't and wouldn't for a long time it seemed. I couldn't go back to the cottage—I didn't want to go back to Charlie's either but I had to, for a little while at least, until I figured some things out. Until I decided what the next fifty years of my life were going to look like.

* * *

**A/N: From day one there have been two camps regarding this story—those who've wanted Bella to live and those who have not. I know I've upset a few readers with this chapter, and I want to reassure everyone that my decision to have Bella live isn't a whim on my part, or an attempt to take the easy way out. I've thought long and hard about this and I hope this A/N helps everyone understand where I'm coming from.**

**Yes, I could have chosen to have Bella die; Edward could have confessed his past, his feelings, been inspired by her to finally face what he's been running from all along. It would've been very sad and no doubt I'd have cried buckets while writing it… but I'd be left feeling unsatisfied too. I'd have written a character who was brave only when she was dying, who had learned how to live only when she couldn't anymore. Who never believed in herself enough to think that she deserved more than half-truths and nine months with the man she loves.**

**Dying is easy, it's the living part that's hard. I want to see _how_ Bella lives now that she has everything to lose.**

**Hopefully you will too.**

**;-)**


	19. Chapter 19: Tell You Everything

**Holy crap guys! WOW, your response has totally blown me away! I tried my best to respond to everyone who reviewed chapter 18, but if I missed you, I'm so sorry! I've never gotten that many reviews before and it was a little overwhelming -) Thank you so much to everyone who's been reading/ reviewing and recommending this story! I couldn't do it without you. **

**On another note, I'm sorry if I inadvertently gave the impression that this chapter would be from EPOV—my poor brain was slightly fried sometime after the 50th review response; I'm still not sure if I've recovered yet XD What I meant to say was that Edward will be doing A LOT of talking in this chapter, more than he ever has before. Now, this doesn't mean that there won't be a companion story from Edward's perspective someday when LttS is finished…**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 19: Tell You Everything**

_Well I've been here before_  
_Sat on a floor in a grey, grey mood_  
_Where I stay up all night_  
_And all that I write is a grey, grey tune_

_So pray for me child, just for a while_  
_That I might break out yeah_  
_Pray for me child_  
_Even a smile would do for now_

_Have I still got you to be my open door?_  
_Have I still got you to be my sandy shore?_  
_Have I still got you to cross my bridge in this storm?_  
_Have I still got you to keep me warm?_

-Grey Room, Damien Rice

_~May~_

The crack on the ceiling had gotten worse.

Everything else in my old bedroom at Charlie's house was exactly as I'd left it, right down to the purple sheets on the bed. It was as if Charlie had just closed the door and never gone back inside; knowing him, that was probably exactly what he'd done. I lay back onto the freshly changed sheets and stared up at the long spidery crack that had grown at least an inch, my room faintly illuminated by my small bedside lamp. It was dark outside, barely past 4AM.

After promising Charlie that I would tell him the whole story in the morning, I'd stumbled straight up to bed where I'd fallen into an exhausted sleep, only to wake up a couple hours later. Knowing any further sleep would probably be impossible, I'd kicked off the heavy blankets and tried to get comfortable in my too small bed.

I was freezing, but it was the kind that any number of blankets couldn't fix, the bone deep kind. There was no warm furry body curled up at my feet, no warm body beside me. The mattress sagged in the center from all the years of sleeping alone, the pillow was wrong, the sheets too light, the comforter too heavy. I couldn't cry, couldn't sleep, couldn't dream, could barely close my eyes without unwanted memories invading my thoughts.

All I could do was stare at that damn crack.

I had hoped it would be easier in Charlie's house since it held no associations with Edward, not like the cottage where every square inch held an aching memory. But the emptiness of it all—of my room, my bed, my arms— left me reeling. What if it had all been a dream? What if none of it was real? At least at the cottage I could reassure myself that I wasn't delusional. In my childhood bedroom I felt disconnected from the past year, as if nothing at all had changed.

At last, I rolled over onto my side and took a deep breath. I forced myself to stand up and walk over to where Charlie had put one of my bags; he would have carried them all up to my room but I'd stopped him. This was only temporary, I didn't need to get too comfortable here.

My laptop bag was in the small pile and before I knew what I was doing, I pulled it out and turned it on, suddenly filled with this overwhelming desire to be finished with everything connected to the past nine months, to Edward. I opened the Word program, and read through the final six pages of my book carefully, fixing a spelling mistake, cleaning up the punctuation. One final spell check. Save.

Feeling giddy, I scrolled down to the end and wrote the words I'd been longing for and dreading equally for the past few weeks._ THE END_.

The End. In more ways than one, in every way that mattered.

I spent the next twenty minutes using up every last drop of ink in my ancient printer and most of the paper I'd found scattered in my desk. The noise probably woke Charlie but I was past caring—I needed it to be over, every loose end I had control over needed to be tied up And I had to do it while I still could, before the gravity of what was happening crippled me.

When I was done, I stared at the huge stack of paper for a long time, hardly believing that it had come out of me. Good or bad, it was finished. And it was mine.

The sky outside was just beginning to lighten and I breathed a long sigh of relief. I'd survived the first real night away from Edward; hopefully it would only get easier. I wasn't holding my breath.

I dressed quickly, not paying any attention to the clothing I pulled out of my suitcase. Quietly, so I wouldn't disturb Charlie any more than I already had, I tiptoed downstairs, grabbed my jacket and keys and walked out the door.

The air was cool and damp, and it was utterly silent as only dawn could be. I suddenly understood why Charlie liked to go out fishing so early every weekend— there was something peaceful about feeling like the only person in the world.

I drove along the familiar road that led to La Push, deserted at this early hour, feeling something inside me ease as the dark sky did. Instead of heading straight on the road that led to the town and First beach, I went right, towards Rialto Beach. It was just as easy to get to but more secluded; I needed that.

All too soon, I was pulling my truck into the small parking lot that backed up to the beach. The early morning fog was so thick that I could barely see the dark mass that was James Island or hear the steady crash of the waves. The silent calm was eerie; talk about feeling like the only person in the world.

I remembered the last time I had been to La Push, the afternoon I'd gotten my faulty diagnosis from Dr. Thompson. I remembered the way that trapped helpless feeling slowly bloomed into a magnificent sense of freedom— I could do anything, _be _anything. It was my death sentence that had given me that freedom… now I had forever and I was right back where I'd started: weighted down by expectations and fear. My least favorite professor in college would have called it deliciously ironic.

I had been full circle now. The only difference was that I wasn't the same Bella Swan I'd been a year ago— _she _hadn't known what real bone deep happiness felt like. I would never feel it quite the same way again but maybe I could still find my own kind of contentment. Not in Forks though. I couldn't go back to work the library, to Charlie's house, to the painfully bittersweet dreams that had just barely made life worth living.

I would go to Port Angeles, Olympia, or maybe even Seattle. I had enough money in my back account to last a few months if I was careful with it, until I found a job. I could get my own apartment, fill it with all my own things. Maybe I would even take my book out of the drawer I'd shoved it into and send it to an agent. Even if no one wanted to read it, it would hardly hurt to try.

I only hoped that wherever I ended up, I would never have to see _him_ again. It would tear me apart.

Maybe eventually I would feel content… but I doubted that the wanting would ever go away. Wanting Edward, wanting the life we'd had, what I never should have had in the first place. Wanting with a soul deep hunger that wasn't normal, that inhabited the whole body, leaving no room for anything safe or sane or ordinary.

There would never be another Edward. I was certain of that.

There would never be another glass bubble, fragile and perfect, keeping out the rest of the world. Whatever else was waiting for me, it could never touch those twelve months at the cottage.

I opened my eyes, lifting my face to the slight breeze…. And I ran. I ran as hard and as fast as I could down the long stretch of beach, my feet digging into the wet sand. I ran until I was panting and my heart was pounding. Until there was no breath in my lungs.

For the first time in a year, I pushed my body past the invisible line I'd drawn— the one meant to keep me alive until the last possible second. Muscles screamed in protest as I pushed them past the breaking point. I'd gotten so good at walking slowly, doing things gently; I couldn't remember the last time I'd been anything less than careful. Well, screw that.

It didn't matter anymore.

A sob tore through my throat and I doubled over, clutching my knees as I drew in deep ragged breaths. I fell onto my back, ignoring the wet sand that wormed its way into my clothing. I pressed my palm over my heart, feeling it race, and I finally accepted the truth.

I lay there for a long time, just staring up through the fog as it slowly began to burn away, listening to the soothing rhythm of the waves.

I thought about Edward. Was he home yet? Had he found my note? Every time I imagined him reading it I felt sick inside. And Tanya… my stomach clenched as I remembered her; beautiful, confident— the woman Edward loved.

_No wonder he couldn't ever love me, _I thought, doubt coursing through me. _Who would, after her?_

I shook my head, knowing it wasn't fair. I hadn't wanted Edward to love me, not then anyway. But oh, everything had changed now.

…

Charlie was sitting at the kitchen table waiting for me when I finally returned from La Push. He looked tired and worried, the same deep frown on his forehead that had been the night before when, fighting tears, I'd asked him if it was okay if I stayed with him for a while. His gaze was intensely sharp, and I was grateful that all my bruises from the accident were hidden beneath my clothes. God only knew what he would think if he saw them.

I slid into the seat across from Charlie and began pouring myself a bowl of cereal, unable to look him in the eye.

"You left early this morning. I was starting to wonder if you were planning on coming back at all."

I shrugged and took a bite of the cereal; it tasted like cardboard in my mouth but I forced it down anyway, knowing that it had been far too long since I'd last eaten anything. "I just needed some time alone to think."

"Did something happen between you and Edward?" Charlie asked carefully, not looking at me. We weren't good at this, talking about difficult things. I knew that he was struggling with what to say to me.

But at least he was here. There was something quietly comforting about knowing that he was looking out for me.

"Did he do something," Charlie continued. "Did Edward hurt you?"

I shook my head, fighting back tears. "No dad, he didn't hurt me."

"Are you fighting?" I shook my head again. Charlie frowned, obviously frustrated. "Then what's wrong Bella? Why are you here?"

"Because I'm not going to die!" The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. I dropped my head into my hands, wishing that numbness would come back. "I was supposed to die.".

Charlie didn't say anything for a long time. Finally, he reached across the table and touched my cheek, lifting my face so that I was looking at him. "I think you need to start from the beginning."

I nodded, took a deep breath… and told him everything. About the chest pain and the diagnosis, about feeling like I had to really live before it was too late, Alice asking me to move in with her. And Edward. I told him about us being friends first, how I fell in love with him, and when after Alice moved to Texas, I asked him to marry me. My cheeks were flaming with embarrassment but I pushed on, explaining that Edward said yes, even though he didn't love me.

And how two days ago my heart should have stopped but hadn't.

A couple of times Charlie started to interrupt— especially when I told him about the accident— but I didn't let him; I was afraid that if I stopped I wouldn't be able to start again. When I was done I didn't feel any lighter, instead I felt the weight heavier than ever on my shoulders. I buried my face in my hands again, unable to meet Charlie's gaze and his suddenly ghost white face.

"Why didn't you tell anyone Bells? We could have— we could have done something, taken you to Seattle."

"That's exactly why I didn't tell you," I mumbled into my hands. "I was convinced that Dr. Thompson was telling the truth and I was so scared that I'd spend the last year of my life stuck in a hospital room. You and mom would have pushed me into some kind of treatment — don't try to deny it. I couldn't die that way."

"So you carried this burden all by yourself for a year? Jesus Bella."

"Not alone. Edward knows."

Charlie made a face. "And now that you're going live, where is he?"

"Don't. Don't do that. Edward— what he did for me was so far beyond… I'll never be able to repay him." I scrubbed a hand over my eyes. "A lot has changed and we both need some space to figure things out."

"Is he coming back?"

My shoulders slumped. "I don't know," I finally admitted, and because I was a glutton for punishment I went further. "What's between us, it was never supposed to last longer than a year. I don't know where we stand now."

"He's an idiot if he walks away from you," my father said quietly.

_I would be an idiot if I thought he'd stay. _

I shook my head. "Whatever happens doesn't change the fact that Edward was there for me when I really needed him. I always felt like I was missing something, my whole life, like I was out of step. I didn't know what it felt like to be really happy before him; I was just… miserable."

"I never knew that you felt that way."

"I was good at hiding it," I shrugged. "The truth is I wanted so many things but I was scared. I was stuck and— and confused and I didn't know how to change anything. But Edward… Edward made me feel like I could do anything, like with him, I'd found what I was missing. Please don't be mad at him."

Charlie reached across the table and caught hold of my hand. "You only thought you needed him; you could have done it on your own Bells."

"Maybe," I sighed.

Charlie shook his head. "No, you're a wonderful girl Bells, you would've been just fine."

"It would be nice to think so," I answered, still not sure.

Charlie and I were quiet for a few long minutes and I forced down another bite of cereal.

"You love him," Charlie said finally.

_Always. _"With my whole heart dad."

"Then everything will work itself out. But remember, you can stay here as long as you need to."

I wondered when Charlie had turned into such an optimist. "Thanks," I grinned at him. "but it's not really fair to have your grown up daughter come running home whenever anything bad happens."

"I missed you Bells," Charlie said seriously. "It's not the same around here without you."

I nodded and dropped my gaze back to the mushy bowl of cereal in front of me. I couldn't eat another bite.

As soon as I could, I escaped back upstairs to take a shower, needing to wash away the salt and sand from the beach earlier. I stayed in the shower for a long time, the water turned up as hot as I could stand, as if it could somehow melt the ice building inside of me.

When I was done, I tugged a towel tight around my body, using another to squeeze the water from my long hair. I wiped away the steam from the mirror, looking carefully at the face it revealed. It was almost as if the past year hadn't happened: I saw the same dark circles, the same too pale skin, the same lifeless expression. I stared, amazed at the change from only a few days ago.

"Bells," Charlie called from outside the bathroom door. "I'm heading over to Sue's house now."

"Okay," I called back, turning away from the mirror. "I'll see you when you get back."

"Are you sure you're okay? I could stay if you wanted."

I smiled. "No dad, go have fun. Say hi to Sue for me." I heard him mumbling to himself as he walked back downstairs, and I had to stifle another smile; Charlie was trying so hard, it was sweet.

Ten minutes later, I was dressed, sitting on the bed looking down at the huge pile of paper I'd spent the early hours of the morning printing out. My book. With a clearer head, I wondered if I could really make something if it; it would probably be a lot of work, I couldn't deny that the distraction would be wonderful.

And then I heard it, a heart stopping sound that caused my head to jerk straight up. I would know it anywhere: the quiet purr of the Volvo. I stood quickly, the towel I was using to dry my hair slipping from my hands as I half-ran to the window, needing to be sure.

"It's too soon," I whispered to myself, watching a familiar shape open the door and step out of the car. I threw myself back as he gazed up at the house, my heart beating rapidly. I looked like crap, I felt even worse. I hadn't had enough time to think about what I wanted to say to him. I wasn't ready.

Three distinct raps on the front door forced me out of my paralysis; I knew I owed more to Edward than to hide upstairs just because I was afraid. Still, I was shaking so badly that I wasn't sure if I'd be able to walk down the stairs let alone open the door. Somehow, I managed to make it downstairs to the hallway without falling.

And then Edward was standing in front of me. Looking even more disheveled and disreputable than ever; his clothes were wrinkled, his hair was a mess, his eyes were too bright, the circles under them too dark. And he was still so beautiful. He was _always_ beautiful. My heart clenched painfully, offering a bitter reminder of why I couldn't be home, snuggled tight in his arms, why I never could be again.

"Edward." My voice was barely above a whisper.

I backed away from him, afraid of what I would do if I got too close. It was physically painful to say his name. To look at him, to have him so close when I couldn't touch him. Once upon a time touching Edward had been terrifying, but now it was automatic, deeply ingrained into my hands and lips, and to suddenly be forced to curb that instinct felt wrong, like I was depriving my body of some necessary, vital thing.

Without a word, Edward walked right past me into Charlie's small living room. It took me a very long second to gather the courage to close the door and turn to face him. We stared each other for what felt like forever, but no matter how closely I looked at him, I couldn't read his expression. His face was stone.

Was he angry with me? Did he hate me? Did he keep his feelings so tightly in check because he was afraid of what would come spilling out if he let it? I flinched at the thought of Edward hating me, of not trusting me.

There was so much to say, but now that Edward was finally in front of me I couldn't find any words.

Before I could even open my mouth to attempt to speak, Edward was coming towards me and there was nowhere to go to get away from him, no place to hide. But really, I didn't want to. He pulled me against him, his arms so tight around me that the bruises on my stomach and back ached where he held me.

I sagged against him, all of the sudden feeling like I was going to cry again.

"Why did you leave like that Bella?" he finally forced out, his voice muffled against my shoulder. "I found your note— I thought I would go crazy."

I let him hold me for a beat, then another before I reluctantly pushed him away. _Don't torture yourself Bella, it will only make it harder to let go later. _I retreated into the corner of the room and wrapped my arms around myself to ease the temptation.

"Edward— I'm so sorry," I whispered, my voice cracking. "I honestly believed that I was going to die. I had no idea, please believe that. I never meant to trick you."

Edward frowned at me, looking totally perplexed. "What?"

"I found out about Foster," I blurted out. "Claire was stuck in your studio when I was leaving and I had to say goodbye to her and I didn't know when you'd be back—" _Oh God, shut up, just shut up Bella!_

"I'm surprised you didn't find out sooner," he said, his tone even.

"So… you don't think that I used my— my illness to get close to you, because of who you are?"

Edward took one step forward. "Bella, that didn't even cross my mind. You are the worst liar I've ever met, there's no way you could have pulled something like that off for a day let alone a year. Besides, I _know _you, you're not the kind of person who would do something like that." He took another step, then another.

"God, I'm so fucking glad you're okay. I _hated_ it— I hated thinking you were going to die."

Color flamed across my cheeks. The emotion in his voice was too much to process so I did the only thing I could, I ignored it. "I can't lie, huh?" I joked, my tone as lighthearted as I could manage. "I don't know whether to be insulted or flattered that you feel that way about me."

Edward quirked an eyebrow at me, and his lips curved into a slow, sweet smile. For a second it was as if nothing had changed between us, like we were just Bella and Edward. But who was I kidding? Everything had changed. The smile faded from my lips and I dropped my gaze from his.

"Did you…" I took a deep breath, "did you see Tanya? She stopped by cottage yesterday afternoon wanting to see you." _Because you had things to 'talk' about._

"Tanya? Yeah, I saw her this morning. I would've been over here earlier if she hadn't stopped by."

The nonchalant way that Edward said her name caused my heart to sink into my stomach. It sounded like he talked about—or _to— _her all the time, like it was really no big deal that the love of his life had just walked back into his life. But I couldn't really be sure that she'd ever completely left it.

In between bouts of self-loathing, I'd spent many sleepless hours the night before reexamining the lyrics of some of my favorite Foster songs. There was no doubt Edward and Tanya's relationship had been tempestuous… no doubt either that he had been crazily in love with her.

Was this sudden reappearance a sign that they were getting back together? That wouldn't surprise me one little bit; in his lyrics he always talked about going back, no matter what shit she pulled or how badly they fought. He always went back.

"Look— I'm not going to make anything hard for you," I said quickly, wanting to get it over with as soon as possible. "I'll sign whatever you want as soon as you get the papers to me—"

"Bella," he interrupted me. "What the hell are you talking about? And what does Tanya have to do with anything?"

"There's no reason to prolong this— us— any more than we have to," I babbled. "The fact is that our relationship was never supposed to last past May; just because my… condition has changed doesn't mean anything else has. I'm sorry that you have to go through all the trouble of a divorce, but I promise I'll make it as painless as possible."

"What divorce?"

"I—I thought that was what you would want. Isn't that why you're here?"

"Don't you think you're getting ahead of yourself? I'm here because you left without a fucking word."

"So did you! After the accident, you couldn't even look at me Edward. What was I supposed to think?"

"That I was confused? God Bella, since the day you asked me to marry you I knew you were going to die and it fucking tortured me. When you asked me to forget it, I tried my damndest to pretend that nothing was wrong. But the accident happened and when I saw you lying there it hit me: you were going to die and there was nothing I could do about it…. But you didn't, and I thought maybe your condition wasn't as serious as you assumed, or that, I don't know, that some kind of fucking miracle had happened! I needed to wrap my head around it."

"Alone?"

"_Yes._" He let go of my hands and took a step back, breathing hard. "I know I shouldn't have left you like that, but I felt like I was going crazy. Every time I looked at you, it hit me all over again. I needed to figure things out, but Bella, just because _I _left doesn't mean I wanted you to."

"I couldn't stay there. And anyway, it's better that I just got it over with right away. We both know I'd have to leave eventually."

"I wasn't going to ask you to move out."

Before I could move away, Edward pulled me against him, and in spite of myself, I relaxed into his arms. Greedily, I turned my face into his chest, moving closer to his heat and his scent. The crack in my chest widened. As much as I wanted to believe Edward, I knew that whether he realized it or not, he was lying.

God, maybe I could just be greedy. Screw tomorrow, screw Tanya, screw Foster, screw _everything. _Maybe I could do it, I could take everything he had to give for as long as he gave it, even if it was only for another hour. I could pretend that we had forever.

But it would never be enough. Tanya didn't matter—Edward was too sweet and too good and if I asked him to honor our marriage, I knew he would, for my sake, because he didn't want to hurt me. Maybe he could even trick himself into thinking that's what he wanted.

But how long would it be before he started hating me? How long would it be until I hated myself?

"You don't have to do this," I whispered into his soft shirt, giving him one last squeeze.

Edward stiffened. "What do you mean?"

With an inward wrench, I pushed myself away from him. "You don't have to pretend anymore. Thank you, for everything you've done for me, but I know what I did, I insinuated myself into your life—I forced you to make room for me. You didn't want me, you didn't _need _me … but I did it anyway, because I was selfish and dying and you felt sorry for me. This past year was wonderful, but it's over now. Maybe we should just leave it at that."

His bright green eyes flashed. "You didn't force me to do anything Bella," he said quietly, his voice very hard. "I could have said no. I didn't. The fact is I _did _feel sorry for you— and thank God I did, you're right to say I never would have let you in otherwise."

I flinched; it was one thing to think something and quite another to hear it said out loud, confirmed.

"I wouldn't have known how wonderful you are," he continued. "I'm not pretending."

"We don't even know each other Edward—"

"That didn't matter when you asked me to marry you."

"It matters now," I said firmly.

"I know. And I promise, whatever you want to know, I'll tell you. I'll tell you everything."

"What's… what's your real name? Tanya called you Edward Cullen?"

"It's Edward Anthony Masen Cullen," he answered quickly. "I was born in Los Angeles on June 20th. My biological mother was addicted to cocaine; she died when I was seven. I don't know who my biological father is."

I stared at him, searching his face. "I'll tell you everything Bella," he repeated, tightening his grip. "Just give me the chance."

I nodded. "I want to know you. It was hard, having secrets between us."

"I know. And it was stupid on my part I just—I'm so used to people knowing everything about me, getting close to me just because of who I am. I liked that there were no ulterior motives with you— God, how could there be? All I had to give you was a worn out cottage and a bad reputation."

"Is it because of Foster?"

"No," he exhaled. "Do you remember the day I yelled at you for watching that show on plastic surgery?" I nodded. "It was because the surgeon is my adopted father, Carlisle Cullen."

I did a double take, thinking of all the times my mother had forced me to watch it with her… and all the time it had been Edward's _father. _"Renee watches that show, she's in love with him."

"A lot of people are. He used to work at a hospital in Los Angeles, that's where he found me after my biological mother Elizabeth overdosed. Dr. Cullen and his wife couldn't have kids on their own so they adopted me."

"Edward I'm so sorry."

"Don't be. I was lucky. It took me awhile but I eventually warmed up to Carlisle and Esme, they became my parents in every way that mattered. Mom spoiled me like crazy—everything I wanted I got: piano lessons, toys, everything. Growing up we were always comfortable, money wise, but then dad got burned out working in the ER and went into a private practice with his friend. When I was thirteen he switched to plastic surgery.

"He had a really good reputation, so he started out by going on a couple talk shows, and the women just—they loved him, they went crazy over him. It wasn't too long before some producer asked him if he wanted his own show. He said no at first, but they talked him into it, threw a lot of money at him."

"What about you and your mom? What did you want?"

"Well, Esme wanted Carlisle to be happy, which is what she always wants. He could decide to move to Alaska and live in an Igloo and she'd support him. And me… well, what was I supposed to say? _No_? After everything he'd done for me?"

I shrugged. "His decision affected you too."

Edward's eyes darkened. "Yeah, it did, but I love him too and I wanted him to be happy. Besides, I had no clue, then, what it would be like…. So anyway, we moved to Beverly Hills, and I went to a new high school where everyone knew me as Dr Cullen's son. People either thought I was a joke and made fun of me behind my back, or they wanted to be friends with someone whose dad was rich and famous. So I just kind of… retreated. It seemed safer."

"Sounds lonely too."

"Yeah, it was lonely too. I was kind of lost for a while, I didn't know what to do with myself. But then I met Tanya."

I stiffened instantly. _Tanya_…

Oh God, he was going to tell me about the woman he loved. And I was going to have to listen to it because it was part of his story, and he wanted to tell me. I couldn't say no to Edward, even though all I wanted to do was throw my hands up and beg him to stop; I didn't want to hear him tell me how devoted he had been—still was?—to her. Aching inside, I sat down and kept my hands clenched my hands tightly on my lap, and nodded, encouraging him to go on.

"Tanya was… different. A little wild, beautiful; she didn't give a fuck what other people thought about her." He looked at me, a sheepish expression on his face. "I wasn't too good with peer pressure back then. I'd gone to a couple parties before I'd met her and I was scared to death that someday someone was going to hand me something and I'd be too much of a coward to say no. Tanya was a dancer, big on taking care of her body; she had no problem going to a party and telling someone to fuck off when they wanted her to get high. I was attracted to that confidence. Envious of it; I wished I could be more like her."

A wistful expression crossed Edward's face. "And she seemed to like me too, I couldn't believe my luck."

"You fell in love with her."

_Shut up Bella! Shut up!_ I yelled at myself, mad that I'd let the words slip out. It was so pathetic, but as much as I hated to hear this, there was another, smaller part that _needed _to hear it. So that when this was all over and Edward was gone, there wouldn't be any leftover delusions. Edward had _never_ loved me; I was his friend— he cared for me as a _friend_, and he had given me what I wanted because letting me into his life had been easy…

He hadn't loved me, but he'd loved Tanya.

Edward shrugged. "It felt like love; I was seventeen years old and infatuated, ecstatic. For the first time in my life I felt really _alive, _like I could do anything because she was with me." I nodded knowingly—wasn't that exactly the way I felt about Edward? Like I hadn't really been living before I'd met him?

"Tanya was the one who encouraged me with my music, just knowing that I had her support made me feel like I could really do it. We went to college together, and it was the first time in my life that I was totally anonymous. By that time Carlisle

was this institution, and I liked knowing that whatever success I had was _mine_, that it had nothing to do with my last name. And amazingly, things started working out for me. I got a band together and we got some gigs—nothing fancy, but over time, there were more and more of them."

"And you and Tanya stayed together?"

"Yes. We were always kind of… volatile I guess, but we always ended up coming back to each other. When I went on tour there were girls who wanted…" he paused, ducking his head and running his fingers through his already disheveled hair, "well, you know… It was good for the ego I guess. They liked my music and they liked _me_; for the first time I felt confident that it had nothing to with Carlisle's money. But those girls, they weren't Tanya. I never cheated on her, not once. And as much I loved my music, I was doing it for her too—to prove that I could be _more_ for her, that I could create a life for us."

Edward was still staring at the floor with a look in his eyes that made me want to cry. I loved his honesty but I hated it too. What did he mean by telling me about Tanya? Did he think that if he explained how much he loved her that it would make it easier for me to let him go? But I was ready to do that anyway—if he handed me the divorce papers this second, I would sign them without hesitation. It would hurt as much as cutting off my own hand, but I would do it.

"I understand," I told Edward quietly, trying to keep my voice from cracking. And I did, I understood that if he wanted to go back to Tanya, I was standing in his way.

But Edward's head snapped up, and he stared straight at me.

"No," he said, shaking his head and reaching for my hand, gripping it so tight that it almost hurt, "you don't—and I need to you to Bella. I need you to_ really_ understand. I'm sick of the secrets between us too."

His green eyes did not leave mine. "However much I loved Tanya, I always knew it wasn't the same for her. She never loved me like I loved her; I put up with it because I was scared of what would happen if she left me, of being on my own. I told myself our problems were because I was away, touring all the time. I thought we just needed to find a way to compromise.

"And when she stopped coming with me on tours, and when she hesitated when I wanted us to move in together, I told myself that she was afraid of being tied down so young, that it was only natural for her to want a little freedom… I fed myself so much bullshit because I_ needed_ to believe it." He took a deep breath, frustrated.

"Why?" I asked cautiously. Did he really love her that much?

"My parents were high school sweethearts, soul mates. It was actually a little sickening being around them as a teenager. Not like Elizabeth; as a kid I watched a stream of men come into our lives, get her hooked on some new shit, and walk right back out again. Every day she'd fall apart a little more. I was so afraid that whatever was inside her, an addictive personality or whatever, was inside me too and if I weren't careful, I would turn into her. I got in my head that if I could be like Carlisle and Esme, have what they have, if I could make things work with Tanya, then I didn't have to be like Elizabeth."

He smiled wryly. "I think part of me knew that it was doomed to failure but I had to try, that's the problem with irrational fears."

"Were you happy at least?" I wondered if they had ever worked through their problems, did Tanya ever decide that she loved Edward just as much as he loved her? I couldn't imagine it, having Edward's love, but never loving him back. How was it even possible?

God it hurt. What if Tanya was never able to give more than half of her heart and Edward chose her anyway? Because maybe I wasn't beautiful or wild but I gave him my whole heart, every single last bit of it until there wasn't anything left over for anyone else.

"No, I wasn't happy," Edward answered finally.

It was so not the answer the answer that I'd been expecting that I reeled inwardly.

"I was fucking miserable," he continued. "But I still wasn't ready to end it, not then anyway."

"What finally made you decide you'd had enough?" _Please let him have ended things. Please let him have ended things._

"Tanya was always complaining that we didn't spend enough time together, so when I got the chance to come home from a trip a couple days early I jumped on it, hoping to surprise her. But when I got to our apartment she wasn't alone."

I felt myself freeze up inside… _had she?_ Edward noticed my expression and laughed. "No, she wasn't with another guy, although it wouldn't have been the first time she cheated on me. God knows Tanya loves men and when I wasn't around, well…" he sighed.

"It was her sister, Kate. I was just about to walk into the kitchen when I heard Tanya say my name. I don't know what I was thinking; I guess she was always so aloof, I wanted to know how she really felt about me, so I stopped before she could see me." Edward's face

went blank and it was like he was reliving it all over again. "Tanya said that I'd never make it as a musician, that I was chasing after a dream. 'It's okay,' she said. 'His dad is fucking rich and I'll get the money one way or the other.'"

A horrified gasp escaped my lips. A sudden wave of hatred washed over me for that cruel, beautiful woman. How could she…

"Of course, I was devastated," he continued. "You don't know how much I wished I'd just caught her with another guy; I could forgive that, I'd done it before. But what she said… well, that meant everything was a lie, that she'd been out for the money from the beginning. I couldn't stay and delude myself any longer, so I caught the next flight to London and didn't come back. I had one of my friends pack up my stuff in the apartment, not that I had much anyway. I talked to Tanya once on the phone, and then I just threw myself into my music.

"For three months I got up every day, tried to write new material but couldn't, went to a gig, then I'd find the nearest bar and get drunk as I could manage. And the next day it would happen all over again."

"I thought you didn't drink…"

He shook his head. "I haven't since the morning I woke up face down on the sidewalk, no clue where I was or even what country I was in; I felt like I was going to die. And I realized that I couldn't keep doing it anymore. I couldn't keep singing about her or thinking about her or drinking myself to death every night for her; I really would turn into Elizabeth then. I decided I had to take a step back long enough to get my head on straight again.

I didn't want to go back to L.A though. My relationship with my parents was kind of… tense for awhile and I didn't want my mom seeing what a wreck I'd turned into. I remembered that they had taken me to the Olympic Peninsula once when I was a kid, and as I was lying on that sidewalk, hung over out of my mind, I couldn't get the place out of my head. So I came back to the U.S, met Alice, bought the cottage…" he trailed off.

"People in Forks didn't know what to make of me. I heard the rumors they spread about me, but it didn't matter. I wasn't trying to prove anything. All I cared about was my music, not that I could write much of anything for a long time."

"And then you met me," I finished for him.

"And then I met you," Edward agreed.

_And I ruined everything. _

"I met you," he went on, "and you didn't care what everyone in town said, you didn't know anything about me other than the rumors, but you still wanted to know me. Do you know how… freeing that is? How comforting? People take it for granted that they'll be liked for their own sake; I never had that luxury."

I smiled wryly. "If I had known who you really were I would have been too scared to talk to you, not that I wasn't already terrified. You were very intimidating, you know."

"I was a little scared of you too," he confessed. "I'd never met anyone like you before; you were so unashamedly honest, something I had absolutely no experience with. And I hated the thought of you ever treating me any differently, that's why I made all those stupid rules. I couldn't stand it if anything changed between us."

Edward and I were silent for a few long minutes as I digested everything he'd told me. Finally, it all made sense: why Edward had resisted marrying me when I'd first asked—because he knew what it was like to be in a one-sided relationship and he hadn't wanted to hurt me the way Tanya had hurt him. Why he'd come to Forks, why he'd insisted on privacy…. There was only one thing I didn't understand now.

"There's something I've always wanted to know," I began cautiously. "Why did you marry me? Was it really only because you felt sorry for me?"

"That was a big part of it. I think it was how you asked too," Edward grinned. "You were so honest, just laid everything right out there. God, I admired that. And you were so sure I could make you happy, that I was the only who could. It was a lot to ask, but at the same time it wasn't—because I _could_ give you everything you wanted, the cottage and midnight kayak rides and friendship. And I was attracted to you, I've always been attracted to you Bella."

I felt my cheeks grow warm as a disturbing sense of vulnerability settled across me.

Edward came and knelt in front of me, catching both my hands in his.

"After what happened with Tanya I was really lost for a long time. It messed me up, I couldn't trust anyone, couldn't let anyone in; I don't think I ever would have if it weren't for you. I built up too many walls. And then even after I met you I was still so caught up in the idea that there was nothing left in me to give you. I couldn't see where I was heading—where I already was… where I _am. _I couldn't see that I was in love with you."

He caught my face in his hands, tugging my chin upwards so I was forced to look him in the eye; for the first time ever his touch was almost rough, almost hurt. But I didn't care, I was too caught up in the wild emotion in his eyes, the desperation fueling his touch.

"I love you Bella," his voice broke. "God, I love you." Before I could even comprehend what he was saying, his mouth was on mine, swallowing my cry of surprise. His lips moved feverishly over me, demanding and possessive. He jerked me upwards so that we were both standing, pulling me hard against him.

And I saw with sudden, breathtaking clarity that he'd been holding back on me all this time—_holding_ himself back. Our lovemaking was always sweet and slow, reverent almost. It was wonderful, but then, I hadn't known any better. I wasn't able to handle any more.

But I was no longer a china doll; I wasn't going to snap if he held me too tightly, my heart wasn't going to stop if he made it race. For the first time I was his equal. And there was nothing sweet or slow or reverent about what Edward was doing to me, what he was making me feel. It was hard and primal and unstoppable. It was fucking amazing.

I kissed him back, his hunger sparking my own. I was suddenly desperate to know exactly what I'd been missing out on all this time. For one long minute, everything else faded. The bubble was back.

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**OK, it was pretty intense to finally write that - I've been waiting a looong time. The next half of Edward and Bella's conversation is up next— and don't think for a second that everything is hunky dory yet guys. They still have a lot more to work through, but this seemed as good a place as any to stop ;-)**

**Did you know that there is a thread for this story on the Twilighted forums? Yup. I'll be posting a teaser from chapter 20 there and probably hanging around for a bit to chat and answer questions (finally!) Check it out: www twilighted net /forum/ ?f=44&t=9962&hilit=ladder+to+the+sun (remove spaces)**

**Thanks for reading!**


	20. Chapter 20: Take Me Back to the Start

**A/N: Once again, I'm astounded! Huge thanks to the authors of Paper CutOuts and everyone else who shared the love. My inbox thanks you – it's never been so full in its life! A big HI and a hug to all my new readers!**

**And, yes, there were about four words missing in the last chapter. I'm so sorry! It was nothing too important, but I fixed it so go ahead and check it out if you want ;-)**

**Disclaimer: Edward and Bella still aren't mine.**

* * *

**Chapter 20: Take Me Back to the Start**

_Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry  
You don't know how lovely you are_

_I had to find you_  
_Tell you I need you_  
_Tell you I've set you apart_

_Tell me your secrets_  
_And ask me your questions_  
_Oh, let's go back to the start_

-The Scientist, Coldplay

_~May~_

_Edward loves me. _

For a moment I was afraid that this was only a dream, one of those rare, wrenching late night fantasies when I'd let myself pretend – just for a little while – that everything would be okay, that it was harmless to envision a different kind of future. I'd been wrong. Those nights were the hardest, the most painful, the mornings after even worse.

I could only imagine how much it would hurt to wake up from this dream; I never wanted to find out

_Edward loves me._

I hadn't expected to hear those words, not from him, not from anyone if I was being totally honest. I'd made my peace with it, tried to tell myself it was better, safer, that way. But now I knew that there was no going back; no going back from this new, rougher side of Edward either. God, if I'd known it existed, known what it did to me, I never would have been content with what we'd had.

Electricity hummed through my body, igniting into flames wherever Edward touched. I squeezed my eyes more tightly shut and threw myself into the storm.

_Edward loves me._

The weight of those words settled across my shoulders, sinking way down deep, and a sudden pang of insecurity yanked me back to reality. What did he mean by them? I wanted to believe that they changed everything, that _I love you _meant the kind of relationship I'd always wanted between us was possible… but I really couldn't be sure.

How many times had I felt vulnerable with Edward? From the first day I'd seen him I'd been afraid of my feelings for him, of my complete and utter lack of control around him. But I suddenly realized that that was nothing, a pinprick compared to the hammer now smashing every last bit of armor I'd ever had into dust.

Because for all my seeming lack of control, I'd never let my expectations get too far out of hand. That was the one solid lesson I'd learned from Renee, from Charlie, from fucking _life _itself_:_ if you don't raise your expectations too high, then you can't be hurt when everything falls short.

But with those three little words, Edward was tearing me apart. The future I'd grudgingly begun making plans for was gone and in its place was a huge question mark; panic rose up through my chest as I rapidly tried to fill in the blanks. Edward and I together for the next fifty-odd years, acting the same way we had for the past nine months? Treating each other the same, living together the same, needing the same things… I felt suddenly suffocated.

One of the problems with living in my head so much was my propensity to literally think every decision, both large and small, to death. I couldn't help it. I saw how something could go wrong, how it could go right; each small obstacle, each potential problem presented itself. And this was the biggest, most important thing I'd ever faced.

I would've given anything to turn my brain off for a little while, to just enjoy Edward and his love for a little longer. But I couldn't.

Edward seemed to sense my distraction; his shoulders sagged as a small sigh blew against my lips. He began to pull away but before he could, I caught hold of his collar, reaching up to cradle his face with my hands, my thumbs brushing across his sharp cheekbones, feeling rough stubble and the hard line of his jaw. I stared at all his small imperfections, the circles beneath his eyes, his slightly crooked teeth, and loved them. They made him seem more human, more real, even more perfect.

This power Edward had over me, God, I kept waiting for it to lessen, for time to dull it, but I was starting to think nothing ever could. If anything the ache only seemed stronger now, it was nearly unbearable.

He was so many things, so many beautiful amazing things, and I sensed that even after living with him for so many months and listening to his broken confession, I'd still barely begun to scratch the surface.

The thought was so depressing that I pressed one last kiss to his lips, wanting the feeling of our earlier closeness to return. Edward stared back at me, his eyes seeming to lose their brightness as he read my face.

"What are you thinking Bella?" he asked, his voice roughening as he pulled away from my touch. "You don't believe me, do you?"

"_I do, _I do believe you," I began hesitantly as my hands dropped uselessly to my sides. "I just don't know if it's enough."

"What more do you need Bella?"

"For us to be completely honest before this goes any further." I sighed. "Everything is so different now…." _And there's so much potential for hurt._

I tried to think of a way to explain it. "Before I met you, I used to have this recurring dream. It would start out the same way each time: I'd be walking in the woods and everything would feel _so_ real, even the dirt beneath my toes, and everything smelled damp and clean, just like it does after it rains. In the dream, I'd lie down and close my eyes and I'd start sinking into the ground. I'd let the black and the calm and the quiet spread all through me until I couldn't feel anything anymore. But it was never scary. It was wonderful.

"The last nine months with you have been like that dream, like I dug myself this perfect little hole and hid myself away someplace where nothing real could find me or touch me or make me dirty. And it was amazing, no one ever had anything so amazing… but it wasn't real, and as much as I want to stay there, I've got to start digging myself out of that hole. I can't keep the rest of the world out forever.

"I can't stay here," I gestured around us at Charlie's house, "but I can't go back to the cottage and pretend like nothing's changed. God, we've spent the last nine months completely out of touch with reality Edward. _Hiding. _It was like a… a bubble, a perfect enchanted glass ball where nothing mattered because at the end of those nine months— _poof!_ It was all going to be over."

I shook my head, shutting my eyes as if that could somehow close off the agony boiling inside me. I didn't want to say any of this, hated saying it… but I couldn't lie to myself anymore. "It wasn't real," I whispered.

"That's not true Bella."

"Yes it is," I said firmly. "And I wanted it that way.''

"So when you told me you loved me?" Edward asked, his voice icy. "That wasn't real?"

"Of course it was – I meant every word I've ever said to you."

"And I mean everything I'm saying to you now. I trust you more than anyone else in my life – that's real Bella."

I closed my eyes against the throbbing inside my chest.

"Of course you trust me, of course you," my voice caught over the word, "love me, I'm _nothing_ like Tanya. I didn't know or care about your money or your dad and that makes me safe. You never have to wonder about me because I chose Edward Masen – not for anything you could give me but just because I wanted you – and I loved you so much that I had no shame, I didn't care what any of the consequences might be."

I took a step away from him. "I kept telling myself that you'd be fine after I was gone, that my death didn't have the power to hurt you, but it was such bullshit and I knew it from the beginning. How could you be okay? How could you not hurt? You'd have to spend the rest of your life living with what I'd done to you. And I felt so guilty that I just wanted to keep it easy and uncomplicated between us. Anything you wanted to do, to not tell me about, it was fine because you gave me _everything_; what kind of person would I be if I asked for anything more? For those nine months, all I cared about was being with you anyway.

"But it's not supposed to be that easy; I don't have much experience but I still know that relationships are supposed to be complicated, they're supposed to be messy. And maybe I did feel guilty, but the distance between us… I can't live like that anymore. If you're having a bad day I don't want you to hide in your studio, I want you to tell me and let me help you, I want to be there for you. I don't just want to know Edward Masen, I want to know Edward Cullen too, I want to be part of his life."

I grabbed his left hand and held it between us, brushing my thumb across his bare ring finger. "I'm yours, there's never been a question of that, but I want you to be mine too. I want to meet your family, I want to go L.A with you, I want to see you sing. I don't want an arrangement anymore – I want a _marriage._ But if you can't give me that then _please_, just end it now becauseI – I don't think I could deal with it if you left me."

Edward's expression softened and his deep voice turned harsh with emotion. "Why the hell would I leave?"

"We both know that I fit into your life _here_. But you can't stay here forever, not with your music, you're going to have to leave eventually."

"And you're coming with me," he quickly interjected.

"Will I still fit into your life though? You're not used to…" I struggled to find the right word, "letting me in, _really in. _I don't want you to want me just because you've gotten used to having me around, just because I'm the safe option. You've only known me easy going and undemanding, what are you going to do the first time we fight? The first time I ask a hard question?"

I shook my head, feeling desperate. "But I won't settle for anything less, not this time. I've got to protect myself now."

"I think you're just scared. What happened the woman who kissed me first? Who looked me straight in the eye and told me she loved me?"

"Of course I'm scared!" I cried. "Jesus, you thought I was so brave for asking you to marry me? That was _nothing – _I had nothing to lose then except a little pride. Can't you understand how much more it's going to hurt if I believe you, if I start to think that we have a real future together, and we don't work out after all. Right now, I could still walk away, I'd be fucking devastated but I could do it. I could survive."

"I couldn't," he said simply. A sharp little cry escaped me and my throat tightened, warning tears. "You have to trust me. It doesn't matter where we are, our feelings aren't going to change," he forced out through gritted teeth. "I _love _you."

"And what about Tanya?" I made myself ask, even though I'd prefer never to hear her name again. "What if she decides she wants you back – if she hasn't already?" I rushed on before Edward could say anything. "Maybe you don't want her now but you can't promise that won't change, or that there won't be someone else."

Edward made a sound low in his throat that sounded almost like a growl of exasperation. "And even if there's never anyone else," I conceded, "doesn't mean there aren't other reasons… I mean, I've never been on my own before, except for college. I went from Renee to Charlie to Alice to you, and part of me still thinks that I need to try it, that I need to support myself for once."

"Is that what you really want?" Edward asked softly.

_Here it is Bella, the moment of truth. Once you tell him this, it's over. He'll know and there will never be any going back. Ever. _

But I'd asked him to be honest with me, how could I be anything less in return?

I shook my head, feeling hot tears wet my cheeks. "_No_. I hate it, I hate the thought of not being with you."

"Then _stop_ Bella, stop making excuses, stop finding problems that aren't there. I know you're scared but you have to try. You have to give me, _us_, a chance, because I need you."

"But –"

"You're right when you say I never really let you in. I kept myself at a distance, I couldn't even think of myself as a husband – as your husband because I was afraid it would make everything too real. But God, after accident when I saw you on the ground… I've never been more terrified in my life. That I could lose you… before I'd even realized, before I got to tell you," Edward's voice broke. "But it's not too late; I have the chance to be with you, to have forever with you and I don't want to waste another second.

"So please Bella, trust me, _trust yourself_."

"I've never been any good at that," I admitted ruefully, drawing in a deep shaky breath.

"I know I haven't exactly given you reason to believe me, but you need to know that I'm committed to making this work. It's not going to be like the past nine months but that doesn't mean it can't be amazing in a different way." He stepped forward resting his forehead against mine. "Everything you want for us, I want it too."

He brushed away the wetness on my cheeks. "And just so you know, about Tanya… it's over, completely. It has been for long time."

"You still care about her."

"She's been a big part of my life for a long time, but we were just kids when we got together and it was just habit and stubbornness that kept us together. I explained all this to Tanya this morning."

"Why did she come?"

Edward lifted his shoulders in a shrug. "Because that's what she does, she gets lonely and nostalgic and misses me. She told me she felt bad about the way we left things last time so she got my address from my parents and decided to surprise me."

He looked at me, his green eyes bright. "I was mad for a really long time but I'm not anymore. If all that shit with Tanya hadn't happened I never would have met you, that kind of puts things in perspective for me. You're worth everything."

Something inside me, something deep and hard in the pit of my stomach, began to loosen at his words. I took a deep breath and let the fear I'd been holding in for days slowly ease from my body.

_Don't you dare sabotage this Bella. Being scared is no excuse for fucking up the rest of your life. _

I'd been right when I'd said that I was never good at trusting myself. It was why I'd moved back home after college, why I'd stayed even though I was miserable. Bad self-esteem, trust issues… there were any number of reasons. But I'd changed; I'd been impulsive and crazy and it could have turned out _so _badly but it hadn't.

Because of Edward. Because of me too.

I'd wanted to spend the rest of my life with Edward. That hadn't changed. And I could give a million excuses, I could talk myself hoarse trying to plant doubt in Edward's mind… maybe I could even succeed at it. But I didn't want to.

For now, it was enough to know that he believed we could make this work, that he was willing to try, because deep down I knew it could too.

I didn't want to hide behind an excuse anymore.

"Okay." The word was out of my mouth before I'd consciously made up my mind, but even as comprehension dawned on me I didn't want to take it back.

"Okay?" A huge smile spread across Edward's face, smoothing the worried tired lines around his mouth, as he grasped what I was really saying.

I nodded, too entranced with his expression to say more. Instead, I took hold of his hand and led him up the stairs to my bedroom. "I have to get my things," I told him in a rush.

Edward sat down on my messy unmade bed and looked around him curiously, as I threw the few clothes and toiletries I'd taken out of my bags back into them. It dawned on me that for the first time he was seeing _my_ things, in my room, not just my room at Alice's apartment or my things in his cottage. I glanced around self-consciously, knowing that this space had never really felt like me, not even when I'd first moved back in with Charlie and he'd let me decorate it any way I wanted to.

"I never liked this room," I said quietly.

"It doesn't look like you," Edward answered, playing with the edge of my purple comforter. "Not like the cottage."

I finished zipping up my suitcase and started walked towards him, smiling broadly. "I think so too. You know, I couldn't wait to leave here the first time but now… I'm so ready." Edward grinned, catching hold of my wrist and towing me towards him. My foot caught against the edge of the rug and I stumbled right into Edward, my weight causing us to tumble off the bed and onto the floor.

I landed with an _oomph, _half on top of Edward, my head pillowed against his chest. Unable to hold it in any longer, I started to laugh. After everything that had happened I was just so glad that I could still hold him, still be next to him. He lifted me up a little so he could see my face, his eyebrow quirked at my giggles but it wasn't long before he began laughing with me.

Our bodies shook together, and it felt good, _so _good that I was afraid I was going to start crying again. I clamped my mouth shut before my giggles could become hysterical and closed my eyes, laying my face against Edward's chest, rubbing my cheek back and forth over the soft material of his shirt. He very slowly ran his hands up and down my back and I wondered if he was feeling as overwhelmed as I was.

Eventually I rolled off him and we lay side by side, facing each other on the floor. Edward held my hand between us, gently playing with my fingers, tracing swirling patterns with his fingers. Together we stared up at my bedroom ceiling, our breathing the only sounds in the still house.

For the moment, I was content enough with the quiet and the small, soft touches but I knew it would be a different story later, when we were back at the cottage. I could barely wait to drag him upstairs to bed… if we even made it that far. I turned away from him slightly so he wouldn't catch my smile.

"Edward?" I said finally. He hummed a little in response. "What happens now?"

"Well, when we finally get up off the floor we're going to get all your things and go back to the cottage, where…" he let the sentence hang; I knew he was thinking the same thing I was.

I bit back a laugh. "And after that?"

"I'm not sure," he sighed. "I've been thinking for awhile now that this would be my last year living in Forks full time. After you… well, let's just say it would have been hard to stick around after everything that's happened. I finally have some new material for my music so I could start working on my album—" he broke off. "Say you'll come with me?"

"I think we're beyond that Edward; of course I'm coming with you."

"How does sometime this summer sound? My mom can help us find a place to live." He made a resigned sound. "She's going to be ecstatic when I tell her I'm coming back."

I paused a moment. "You said before that Tanya got your address from your parents… do they know about me?"

"No. We've kind of had a… strained relationship the past couple years. Part of it was just stupidity on my part. After Tanya, I was looking for someone to blame and my dad was the easiest target." He sighed and shook his head. "My parents have done so much for me but I couldn't think about any of that at the time; I was just pissed and needed someone to take it out on. And then afterwards, with the drinking, I didn't want my mom to see me like that. It would have killed her."

"Have you talked at all since?"

"Yeah, on the phone. At first it was only every couple months but lately I've been calling every few weeks. I know I should have told them about you, I just didn't know how to bring it up."

I shook my head. "I understand why you didn't."

"My mom is going to love you. Dad too probably. Especially when they see how happy I am now."

Edward's face was entirely open as he smiled at me. He looked contented and completely at ease; it was one of the rare moments when nothing dark or closed off shadowed his features. Inwardly I thrilled, knowing that the mask was gone for good – if he ever tried to use it on me again I wouldn't let him get away with it.

"I like your smile. Have I ever told you that?" I brushed my fingertips across his lips. "You should show it more."

"I didn't have much to smile about before. But it's different now, we're going to start over."

And Edward began to talk, about the future, about L.A, about his parent's house, his favorite places to visit, what he loved and hated. And as he spoke I saw it in my mind. A house somewhere, filled with sunlight and smelling like flowers. Quiet nights at home: Edward watching as I made dinner, me watching while he did the dishes. A piano. Lullabies hummed into my ear every night just before I fell asleep. A room filled with bookcases, a place where I could write.

And the cottage, always the cottage. Our secret place, which would always be a special place for just the two of us.

I knew that as perfect as it all seemed in my head, not everything would be. Someday we'd probably get into fights, we'd scream at each other and he'd make me mad, make me cry, make me wonder.

And maybe someday we'd have children, and they'd call us Mom and Dad and expect us to be there for them, always.

Edward as a dad… God it was mind blowing to think about. I'd never pictured myself as a mother but suddenly the idea of it, of Edward's babies in my belly, in my arms, made me feel lightheaded. Would they have his green eyes? His bright hair? I wanted them to look exactly like him. In a few years, I could see myself being so _there. _

"What are you thinking about?" Edward asked, moving closer to me.

"I'm just… imagining it. It's so weird, having something concrete to look forward to. I can't quite get my head around it yet."

"I want you to have everything you've ever wanted Bella."

"Aren't you scared though?" I whispered. "I didn't think people were supposed to be this happy. It's like we're tempting fate or something."

"Fuck fate. We deserve this."

Grinning, I propped myself up onto an elbow so I could look down at Edward. Fading afternoon sunlight streamed into the room, flooding the patch of floor where we lay. Our gazes caught and held for the longest time.

"Mmm, look at you," he breathed, reaching forward to push a lock of hair behind my ear. "Just look at you." The expression in his eyes almost hurt to see; he stared like I was the most desirable thing he'd ever seen.

"You don't have to do that Edward."

"Do what?"

"Look at me like that."

Edward chuckled. "Am I making you uncomfortable?" Instead of answering, I ducked my head into his shoulder, blushing hotly. "You _are _beautiful Bella."

I raised my face and glared at him. "You're forgetting that I grew up in the same house as Rosalie. I know what beautiful looks like."

"You're wrong. God, sometimes when you turn your head to look at me over your shoulder, with that little fire in your eyes, or you're so absorbed in what you're doing that you don't even see me there…" Edward closed his eyes and exhaled. "Sure, Rosalie hits you right in the face, but she never changes, there's no depth. You on the other hand," he nuzzled my cheek sweetly. "_You_ are always changing, you always surprise me. I've never seen anything more perfect. You don't know how distracting you really are," he murmured, leaning into my neck. "Trust me."

He rolled over, pinning me beneath him, slowly kissing up my collarbone to my jaw.

"Right here Bella," he murmured, his lips gently nipping at the place just below my ear. "This is my spot. This is mine."

_All of me is yours_, I wanted to say. Instead, I arched my neck, offering him all of me. He would understand soon enough, I'd make sure of that. And I had a feeling that he would do the same for me.

"Edward," I groaned, pulling away from him endless minutes later. "Let's go home."

His answering smile was full of wickedness and satisfaction – and something else too; I watched as the last tiny bit of fear melted from his eyes.

"I thought you'd never ask."

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**Some wonderful person has nominated me for a Class of 2010 award in the 'fanfiction that you couldn't stop reading' category. WOW. Check it out at twilightallhumanawards . webs . com (remove spaces). I'm up against a lot of amazing stories so I doubt I'll win, but it's still really exciting!**

**Just one more chapter to go guys, then an epilogue. I'm going to try to get them out as close together as I can. I can't believe we're almost at the end! So this is your last chance – anything you've really wanted to see but haven't yet? Other than a lemon that is, I'm still not going there ;-)**


	21. Chapter 21: The End is the Beginning

**A/N: Thanks so much for your patience. The final chapter is always the hardest for me to write… I can't believe this is the end guys. I hope you like it.**

***sniffle***

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**Chapter 21: The End is the Beginning**

_Oh I do believe  
In all the things you say  
What comes is better than what came before_

_And you'd better come come, come come to me_  
_Better come come, come come to me_  
_Better run, run run, run run to me_  
_Better come_

_Oh I do believe_  
_In all the things you say_  
_What comes is better than what came before_

-I Found a Reason, Cat Power

_~August~_

Exactly one year after the quiet, strangely perfect civil ceremony at the Clallam County Courthouse, Edward and I said our vows again, this time on a small beach in La Push. There was none of the old itchy desperation that had driven me that day, that need to get it over with, to have that piece of paper that said he was mine before Edward came to his senses and realized how crazy we were being.

Instead, as I stared up into Edward's eyes I was overwhelmed by a sense of rightness, every last lingering trace of uncertainty I'd felt since Edward had first whispered "marry me" into my ear the night I'd come back to the cottage was gone. I squeezed Edward's hand, remembering my first wedding day, which despite its complete insanity had been perfect, a moment that hadn't needed a fancy dress or flowers or a hundred guests, a moment just for us.

"And we'll always have it Bella," Edward had murmured, as we lay spooned together in our dark bedroom after I'd tried to explain my reluctance, how it seemed like a betrayal of the day that had changed my life, redefined and reshaped me. "But I'm not the same person I was back then. I want to see you walking down the aisle, knowing that we're both there for no other reason than that we love each other; I want everyone to see how much I need you. It's so different for me this time Bella – for both of us. It's our new start."

And it was different; I couldn't deny that, I didn't even want to. Edward loving me, being honest with me, the lifting of our deadline had changed things between us, created a new kind of closeness that I hadn't even known was possible. And the more time that passed, the more I recognized that we were not the same people who'd rushed into marriage for our own separate, probably flawed reasons…. So I'd said yes.

Over the next three months I questioned that decision a hundred times, especially when Alice started sending daily emails of dresses and cakes and flowers, threatening to blow the intimate day I'd dreamed of completely out of proportion. But as soon as I'd stepped out onto the beach that she'd doubtlessly spent all night working on I knew we'd both gotten it right. Pots of wildflowers were scattered everywhere, bright spots of color against the monochromatic sand and white chairs, popping against the blue sky. Everything looked effortless and romantic and was exactly what I'd wanted.

As I'd walked down the aisle that Alice had created for me out of flower petals and looked up at Edward I understood: The first ceremony had been the beginning of _us_, of learning how to fit together, how to need each other…. This was the beginning of our forever.

Reverend Webber's deep voice was soothing and powerful; rationally I knew that he must have said these words a hundred times in his career to a hundred different couples – but in this moment it felt like he was saying them for the first time, for Edward and me only.

"Do you, Isabella Marie Swan, take Edward Anthony Masen Cullen to be your wedded husband, to live together in marriage, do you promise to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, and forsaking all others be faithful only to him so long as you both shall live?"

My heart thudded in my chest, a mixture of excitement and emotion. And all I could think was _finally._

"I do."

…

I stood by myself further down the beach, watching the sun go down, the surf licking at my bare feet. Lifting the gossamer fabric of my dress higher so it wouldn't get wet, I thought wistfully of the last time I'd jumped into the water in my wedding gown; for a while I'd wanted to wear my old grey dress before I decided that that was being a little _too _nostalgic.

So I'd dutifully gone shopping with Alice and to my surprise had fallen in love with the first dress I'd tried on. It had a slightly old-fashioned, romantic feel that had me imagining it was a hundred years earlier and I was sipping lemonade on a porch somewhere. An intricate lace overlay covered the top half of what would otherwise have been a simple strapless dress; it had a deep, square neckline and tight three quarter length lace sleeves that I was glad for as it offered extra protection against the cool wind blowing off the ocean.

Despite the breeze, it had been a gorgeous day, the sky a vivid cloudless blue that hadn't seemed real after the long rainy summer we'd had. The sun was so bright it stung my eyes even though they'd almost gotten used to the glare of the Los Angeles sunshine. The day was ending just as spectacularly as it had begun in a gorgeous riot of a pink and orange.

The sound of laughter drifted towards me and I turned my head to watch the small group of people who'd been invited to the wedding. Just the minister, our families, and Alice and Jasper were present, though I knew from Renee that half the town of Forks had been dying to attend since the truth about Edward's identity had leaked out. Also my mother's doing no doubt.

Renee had been thrilled to discover that the son-in-law she'd always been suspicious of was actually Dr. Carlisle Cullen's son, instantly forgetting every bad word she'd ever said about him. It was amazing how quickly her frowns turned into coquettish smiles; in her eyes now he was perfect, the son in law she'd always wanted.

I tried not to hate her for that.

It wasn't as if Renee was alone – many of those who'd delighted in talking about Edward behind his back had suddenly changed their tune, conveniently forgetting all the petty gossip they'd spread since he'd first moved to town. The stares and rumors, which had died down a little over the winter, were suddenly back full force as people tried to figure out how Edward could have possibly kept his identity secret from everyone or why he'd even wanted to.

I hadn't told Renee or anyone else about my misdiagnosis and I knew I never would. She'd only end up with her feelings hurt, especially once she found out that I'd told Charlie first. The last thing we needed was another wedge between us.

I'd fully sensed the distance that had grown between us when I told her about the second wedding ceremony, the first time we'd seen each other in a year. I had changed so much during my year away, felt so different that it was shocking to see that my mother was exactly the same – still repeating the same old gossip, with the same superficial worries and Suzy Homemaker attitude. It was the same way with Phil, who hadn't even bothered to look apologetic or sheepish even though it was the first time we'd seen each other since the disastrous night at Alice's apartment when he'd grabbed my hand, trying to force me to move back home.

Curiously, when I looked at my mother and stepfather, looking ridiculous in her high heels and his suit when everyone else was wearing casual sundresses and sandals, I no longer felt the anger and resentment that had burned inside me growing up, when I'd wanted so badly to be included in their bubble. It hit me that I'd outgrown them, that I no longer needed anything from them, not even an apology.

It made me feel sad.

But I smiled when I saw my dad grinning widely, standing beside Sue with an expression in his eyes that almost hurt to see. It made me realize how rare it was to see him animated, happy. Sue wore her own diamond now and in a few months, Edward and I would be coming back for their wedding.

Rosalie, Emmett, Jasper and Alice were standing to one side, chatting together. Since Rosalie had come to the cottage, we'd formed a tentative friendship of sorts. She would never be the kind of best friend that Alice was to me, but I no longer looked her with a mixture of awe and envy either.

Earlier she'd kissed my cheek, complimented my dress and watched my wedding with a note of wistfulness in her expression that made me wonder if, for the first time she wanted something I had. I hoped so; I knew she was waiting to marry Emmett until after her residency was finished, a decision neither Emmett nor I understood. I hoped she didn't feel any regret when she looked back.

Inevitably, my gaze returned to Edward who was standing with his parents. His mother was clutching tightly onto his arm, beaming whenever she looked up at her son. Edward's face has a special softness to it that I'd learned he wore only for Esme. I'd been so nervous the first time I'd met Dr. and Mrs. Cullen in their gorgeous, _huge_ house, but they were so obviously grateful to have their son back and me by association, that I'd felt immediately welcomed and included.

And I'd watched as another fractured part of Edward slowly began to heal. He was almost unrecognizable these days from the shadowed, tired man I'd first known.

God he looked beautiful. He was wearing simple linen pants and vest, with his sleeves casually rolled up to his elbows, a soft smile on his lips that widened when our gazes met. It wasn't long before Edward was excusing himself from his parents and coming over to stand beside me.

He caught my hand in both of his and raised it to his lips, kissing first the center of my palm and then my wedding ring. I smiled to myself when I saw the flash of his own gold band, remembering the how satisfied I'd felt when I'd finally slipped it onto his finger.

"Happy?" Edward asked, his lips curving in a satisfied, crooked smile as he wrapped an arm around me, running his fingers through my loose hair. I nodded, laying my head against his shoulder. We stood silently for a few long minutes, watching the sunset.

"I love you Bella," he bent to whisper into my ear.

I smiled, squeezing his hand in response as I hugged the words tight. Edward still didn't say _I love you_ very often, but I didn't mind as much as I might have. I'd learned to recognize that he said the words with each kiss and light touch and how every morning he filled the kettle with water and left a cup and teabag out on the stove for me so that when I woke later, all bleary eyed and muddled, I didn't have to bang around the kitchen for a half hour. His I love you was in the way he held me – tight, like he could never get close enough, and how he always seemed happiest when it was just us curled up on the couch watching TV together or making dinner.

It had been there all along, even if neither of us had realized it until it was almost too late.

Still, I couldn't help the little thrill that shot up my spine whenever he said the words. I knew it was their rarity that made them so powerful, that made every time he chose to say it extra special; with Edward I'd never wonder if saying _I love you_ had become a force of habit, never get sick of hearing them. When he said the words, I could trust that he really _felt _them. Every single time.

"It's almost time to go," I said softly. "We should probably start saying goodbye."

Edward and I were spending the night at the cottage, then driving to Seattle in the morning where we'd catch a flight to England for the honeymoon. Our tentative plan was to spend the weekend in London, then rent a car and just drive, stopping at little inns along the way. I wanted to see the Lake District and the moors and the seacoast, even Wales if we had enough time. When we came back we'd be going straight to the little house in L.A that we'd just rented – for good this time, not the back and forth we'd be doing all summer to get things ready.

Once again everything in my life was changing, potentially spiraling out of my control, filled with maybes that I couldn't hope to answer. Maybe Edward would begin touring again in a few months, maybe the manuscript that I'd just gotten the courage to send out to a few agents and publishers would be accepted, maybe once I was living in L.A I'd get horribly homesick…

Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

But instead of being terrified by it all, the way the old Isabella Swan would have been, I felt exhilarated, ready to experience everything.

I wasn't the same woman who'd stared out into the rain, watching a man she didn't think she could ever have. I wasn't the same woman who, every day for four years went home to house that had never felt like hers. To a life that had bearable only because I could dream of something far off and impossible, my very own blue castle.

Tomorrow I was going to wake up to a life that the old me would never have thought possible, had never thought I was capable of living. And the best part was that I had forever to make my mistakes, to be happy, to live with the man that I loved and who loved me.

I could feel Edward's hand, warm and strong in my mine. And I smiled. _Bring it on, _I thought to myself. _I'm not afraid._

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***sniffle* Epilogue will be up soon XD**


	22. Chapter 22: Epilogue

**Epilogue**

_And I have to speculate_  
_That God himself did make us_  
_Into corresponding shapes_  
_Like puzzle pieces from the clay_

_They will see us waving from such great heights_  
_Come down now, they'll say_  
_But everything looks perfect from far away_  
_Come down now but we'll stay_

-Such Great Heights, Iron and Wine

_~September~_

I was so sure that I knew the ending to my story.

I thought I'd been thrown my curveball, fate's big _fuck you_. I had a year to decide what I wanted, what I didn't, how I needed to change, how I should stay the same. I had a year to come to terms with what I both loved and hated about myself, about my life. I guess not many people get the chance to see with such clarity, but then, not many people have to face their own mortality when they're only twenty-six.

It was lonely – it was scary as hell, but I know that despite everything, all the pain, all the worry, that I'm lucky. I'd still be lucky even if my story had ended the way I'd planned, even if I'd died. Because I didn't hide, didn't close myself off and stuff my fingers in my ears and pretend that nothing bad was happening. Sometimes I think about how easy that would have been, how typical. I'm glad I didn't

I'm glad I walked past Edward and smiled at him.

I'm glad I took a chance on Alice and didn't cave when Renee tried to guilt me into going back to her.

I'm glad I held Edward's hand, kissed him, needed him so much that I forgot that I was shy, that I was only good at blushing and running away. I'm glad I was selfish.

Mostly I'm glad I married him. Twice.

I remember lying in bed my first night at the cottage – a night of so many firsts that it makes me dizzy – and saw it all stretch out in front of me. Nine months of lazy days and long nights surrounded by the quietness and beauty of the lake, surrounded by everything I needed to heal all the broken places inside me. And Edward.

Always Edward.

I thought I had everything figured out… I never counted on the surprise ending. Miracles were only for the books I read, the ones that ended _And they all lived happily ever after, _for fairytales. Maybe someone's life was like that but not mine, never mine.

Until now I guess.

Except this isn't an ending, Edward and I aren't going to ride off into the sunset – we're going to _live _because this is only the beginning. Our beginning. And I don't expect perfection, I don't expect every thread to be neatly tied off because miracles might be possible – might come in the form of nervous doctors and a misdiagnosis – but I'm not naïve. This is real life and in real life, people don't always change.

Not matter how much you want them to.

My mother will never change. To her I'll always be the daughter who married Dr. Carlisle Cullen's son. Whatever success Edward and I might have on our own I know it won't matter to her, not really. For whatever reason, superficial perfection is all Renee knows or wants She has her plastic house and her perfect family… and she has me; it doesn't sting the way it used to. We both have exactly the relationship we need.

It helps that I have Charlie – for so long we took each other for granted, we talked but we didn't really, not about anything important. One of the best things that came out of this mess is that I have my father back, or maybe it's that I have him for the first time in my life. Either way I'll take it.

Looking back it all seems so surreal, the chest pain that is all but gone these days, looking up at the stars with Edward in the bed of my truck, the cottage.

If I hadn't had that attack on that particular day and called that particular doctor…

If Alice had seen something in me…

If Edward hadn't said yes when everything inside him should have been screaming _no_…

But it did happen. And now I'm left with a little house in the sun and a room for my writing. A cottage by a lake that will always be my first home, the first place that was mine, that will always be mine. And when our days get too busy we can always go back there.

But for now I just want to be open, to embrace this, to not miss a single second.

I'm not done seeing new places or experiencing new things. Already when Edward talks about touring in a few months I can feel the itch in my limbs, and I know that when the time comes my laptop and I will be going with him.

That's how it's supposed to be.

That's how _we're _supposed to be.

That's how the story ends.

THE END

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**A/N: Firstly I want to thank every single person who's stuck with this story from the beginning – bless you for your patience; I'd have bailed a long time ago. I promise if I ever do this crazy fan-fic thing again I won't be writing each chapter from scratch in between updating. That was just stupid XD**

**And huge, huge thanks to everyone who read/ reviewed/ recommended LttS. Thanks for making me laugh and sharing your stories; you guys made this much more fun (and much bigger) than I was ever expecting.**

**And don't forget… we still have Edward's story to explore. Put me on alert if you're interested. **

**Whew, what a ride! I'm going to take a nap now ;-)**


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